The Flow of Time is Always Cruel
by Gerudo Desert
Summary: Six years after the events of Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask, an old evil has come to threaten Hyrule. Together, Link and Zelda must fight their way through time to restore their home. On the way, they learn to come face to face with the consequences of their actions as well as the scars left behind on themselves and the rift between each other. — Link/Zelda
1. prolouge

**notes one: **I think I actually know what I'm doing. Then again, it is 2 am, so maybe not.

**notes two: **I have wanted to write a post-OoT chapter fic for a long, long time. I'm finally doing it. There will be romance, there will be politics, there will be adventure, and there will be angst. There will also be mentions of other games in the series, and those mentions won't be spoiler free. I seriously doubt there will be fluff, but it's not going to be a tragic Shakespeare ending either. Probably. Haha.

**notes three: **I'll try to keep updates relatively regular, like once a week at minimum. If you favorite the story, it'd be great if you leave a review too! Come say hi, I don't bite!

**disclaimer: **The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo, not me.

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_Her fingers were tight around the bow, familiar yew that had molded to the outline of her hand digging splinters into her palm. Zelda breathed in deep: the acrid air smelled of smoke, fire, and blood. Cinders floated down from the sky to rest in her hair and her clothes. Her horse shifted nervously underneath her, snorting and tossing his head._

_ Death Mountain was a burning silhouette against the dark night sky, a plume of smoke billowing up to shroud the stars. Lava ran in molten red-orange rivers down the volcano's sides, and Zelda could only pray to the goddesses that her plan would work, that it would keep the people safe, that it would keep __**Hyrule **__safe—_

_ Her head snapped around when she heard the horn call. An army was spread out behind her— men and women, Hylians, Gorons, Zora, and Gerudo—prepared to fight and die for their home. And next to her, riding a chestnut mare, was a boy. His tunic was, as always, green; he gripped the violet hilt of a sword in his left hand. There were shadows under his eyes and worry lines at the corners of his lips and scars all over his skin; all features that did not belong on one so young. _

_ Before them, another army sprawled across Hyrule Field. _

_ It was wrong, what Zelda did next. So simple, yet so very, very wrong._

_ She raised her bow in the air, and shouted for the charge. Her army thundered across the field, and then there was blood in the air, blood on her hands, blood thick between her teeth—_

Zelda shot up, tangled in her blankets and stomach lurching. She pushed the covers off and let her legs dangle over the side of the bed, breathing long and slow to quiet her pounding heart.

She was always a quiet sleeper even immersed in nightmares, never crying out or thrashing around. Still the door opened and a shadow stepped in, blade drawn. "Zelda?" came the whisper. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Impa," she answered. "I just had a dream."

Her Sheikah guardian sheathed her blade and took a seat on the edge of the bed, though they could hardly see one another in a room lit only by moonlight. "A dream, or a nightmare?"

Zelda knew before the question left Impa's mouth. Perhaps it was the clarity of the vision that told her, or some knowledge gifted by the Triforce—but it didn't matter. Zelda knew. "Neither," she said. "A prophecy."

She stood, ignoring the chill of the flagstones beneath her bare feet, and walked out onto her balcony. Her hands went to the single long braid she slept in, fingers deftly unraveling the ties until her hair tumbled around her shoulders. She leaned her forearms on the railing and looked up at the sky—the stars gleamed on black canvas. The moon was a slim crescent far above.

_Link, _Zelda thought, the breath leaving her lungs. _Link_.

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	2. cold as a razor blade

**notes one: **I'm of the opinion that Link is the only one who remembers the events of Ocarina of Time. I believe this mainly because I have a sick desire to watch my favorite characters suffer.

**notes two: **I'm also of the opinion that both Link and Zelda remember their past incarnations. Not a full, detailed memory, more like the vague recollection you have of your dreams from last night. However, the time warp in Ocarina of Time screwed everything up, so Zelda doesn't have that knowledge anymore. This doesn't actually matter in this chapter, but it will come into play later.

**disclaimer:** The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo. Hylia bless their hearts, this game has ruined my life.

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With one powerful swing of his sword, Link cleaved the last Stalfos in half and watched as it dissipated into smoke and bones. Breathing hard, he surveyed the small clearing and the destruction he had wrought—at least a dozen Stalfos, all killed by his sword. The stench of death, acrid and wrong, invaded his senses; and although there was no blood, Link felt that he was covered in it. Those had been _people_ once, every last one of them, lost in this seemingly endless forest.

He supposed he should be glad they hadn't found their way to the deepest part of the Lost Woods, where the trees shot so high that you couldn't see their tops through the fog. Termina and Hyrule were not meant to intersect; he and Skull Kid had both learned that the hard way.

Link sheathed his sword and crossed the clearing to where Epona waited for him. He had left her a safe distance away from the battle, but there was no need to tether her; she would follow her master to hell and back if he asked. "Hello, beautiful girl," he breathed as she nuzzled up against him, searching his green tunic for a treat. Smiling, he fed her a cube of sugar and swung up into the saddle, turning her towards the village.

Six years had passed since the day Link woke up in the Temple of Time after saving the world. He had wasted no time in warning Zelda of Ganondorf's betrayal, saving the world a second time—but the people no longer worshipped his name, and the princess was no longer the girl he had known. Six years, and he had learned what it was like to grow up, though at ten years old he had already known and seen things that did not belong in a child's mind. Link was left feeling too young and too old all at once; and really, he didn't know where he belonged anymore.

Kokiri Village was bustling with activity as its inhabitants prepared for winter. Autumn was always the busiest time of the year for the Kokiri, as they had to harvest all they could find to last through Hyrule's most barren season. Sometimes if they were struggling, Link would buy provisions in Castle Town and bring them to the forest; he felt he owed it to them, especially since he had more money now than he knew what to do with. But his aid was usually met with wary thanks and uncertain smiles. After all, Link had left the forest and grown up—two abstract concepts for a civilization of eternal children. A Kokiri cannot leave the forest and come back pretending nothing had happened. And Link was not even a Kokiri, so his visits to the woods were always fleeting.

Leaving Epona to graze near the river, he ducked into the treehouse that he had once considered a second home, stooping to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. Saria sat at her wooden table, weaving baskets for harvested food. "Any luck?" she asked without looking up from her work. Link shook his head tiredly and took a seat across from her, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I'm starting to lose hope," he admitted quietly. "I don't think Navi's…around, anymore." His gentle wording was more for Saria than for himself. Losing a fairy was the most horrific thing that could happen to a Kokiri. It was like losing your soul, your other half. Saria's lips tightened, and her blue eyes flicked to her own fairy hovering over her shoulder, then back to Link.

Saria was one of the few people who knew what had really happened to him after he left the Kokiri—she knew that she was a Sage, knew that he was the Hero of Time, knew just how close Hyrule had come to total destruction. Link had long since given up on being understood; there was only one person in this timeline who could do that. But at least Saria tried to.

"I'm sure that wherever Navi is, she's looking out for you," she offered cautiously, smiling up at him. He tried to smile back.

"One of your messenger birds brought me word of unusual monster activity in the Lost Woods," he said abruptly. "But I haven't found anything out of the ordinary. Do you know where I should look?"

Saria set down a finished basket and looked him in the eyes. "There is a cave not far to the west of the Forest Temple. Monsters seem to be pouring out of there, day after day. A group of our hunters got attacked a few days ago. Mido was among them. You'll have to ask him if you want details."

Link was not interested in asking Mido for anything. He had spent the first ten years of Link's life making sure he knew he did not belong in the forest. Though Link had needed no reminders, Mido had always been quick to shove the pain of not having a fairy in his face. He'd tried to discourage Saria, Link's only real friend, from even speaking to him; he had tried to blame Link for the Great Deku Tree's death. That may have changed under Ganondorf's rule, when Saria had left to become the Forest Sage; but Mido was the same as always in this timeline, and Link still felt Navi's absence with each step he took. He didn't need Mido to remind him of that.

"Thanks, Saria," he said, standing up to take his leave, but stopped with a hand on the doorframe. "Can I ask you something?"

When she nodded, he voiced an inquiry that had been on his mind for a very, very long time—perhaps since the day she had placed her clay ocarina in his hands and told him they would be friends forever. "Did you know from the start that I wasn't a Kokiri? That my mother came from outside the forest?"

There was a long pause; nothing but the tweets of birds and the chirps of insects filled the air between them. Finally, Saria drew in a slow breath and answered, "Yes, I did."

It did not come as a shock to Link, but something in his gut twisted into a knot all the same. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Saria dropped her gaze from his and began to weave another basket. Link pretended not to notice that her hands shook. "The Great Deku Tree always knew you were meant for great things. I don't think he knew how very important you would grow up to be, but…your mother did, somehow. And I could tell the moment I took you from her arms. I guess I just wanted you to have as much of a childhood as possible before the time came for you to leave the forest. Do you wish I had told you sooner?"

Link swallowed hard, broad shoulders pressed against the doorframe. Did he? He thought of long days waiting and waiting for the glimmer of a fairy to appear beside him; of growing taller than any Kokiri ever should and having no explanation for it; of working just as hard—often harder—than the rest of the village and still feeling out of place. But he couldn't blame Saria for that. She was his first friend; the only one who had stayed by his side in those days.

He gave her a simple, "No," in response and shoved out the door before she could say anything else. It was the truth, and it was the best he could do—Link could battle terrifying monsters without flinching, but in the face of his past…he was a coward.

The Forest Temple was not far for someone who knew the way. Link guided Epona carefully, keen ears trained to hear the remnants of Saria's song. It was something he had never understood, that the ocarina melody still played whether or not Saria was sitting on that stump at the base of the ancient temple. Then again, the Lost Woods were not a place for logic.

After a while, he turned towards the west and came to a clearing. The entrance of the cave jutted out of a cliff's face, wide and ominous like a yawning mouth with rocks for teeth. Link left Epona outside and slipped into the gloom. The tunnel led down and down, and he noted by the light of the torches hanging on the walls that this was no naturally formed cave; it had been dug.

Eventually, the tunnel leveled out and made a sharp turn. Link heard the clunking of large, heavily armored footsteps, just around the corner. He had his bow out and an arrow strung in an instant; the Moblin was dead before it even registered Link's presence. Link clenched his jaw and yanked out the arrow embedded between its beady eyes—it seemed that the killing would never end, not for him.

He continued down the tunnel, taking out Moblins as he went. They appeared to be guards, and surprisingly well armored ones. Not for the first time, he longed for the steady weight of the Master Sword in his hands. He had a good sword, crafted by the castle blacksmith on the princess's request, but Link had been _born_ to carry the Master Sword. He felt incomplete without it.

The smell hit him after he took out a fifth Moblin. Sweat, blood, metal, fire…what was down there? Finding a room that broke off from the main tunnel, he shoved open the door and found himself in what could be nothing other than a smithy. More Moblins, as well as Stalfos—about half a dozen altogether—worked the forges, hammering steel into shape. Link heard the boiling hiss as a red-hot blade was dumped into a basin of water. They were making armor and weapons—a lot of them, based on the pile of finished products in the room's corner. He took all this in quickly, wasting no more time than was necessary, before his first arrow hit a Moblin in the back of the skull. The rest of them launched themselves at Link, and he drew his sword.

His thoughts moved faster than his blade as he flew into battle. Most monsters had brains the size of peas; and besides that, they served only themselves. The only reason they would all be working together like this was if they had a leader, but who? Ganondorf was imprisoned—

Link shook his head and shoved those thoughts away. Fighting with his head far away was only good for one thing: getting him killed. He slashed through the monsters one by one, green blood running down the length of his sword, until the last body thudded to the ground, dead. He let out a long, heavy breath. Whatever lay in this cave was a serious threat. He wished he had brought health potions; something told him he would need them. But it was too late to turn back now.

Starting down the tunnel once again, he detected a muffled, continuous roar somewhere below. Link was so focused on trying to figure out what manner of beast it was that he didn't see the way the tunnel widened far more than was necessary in one area. He didn't see the carefully placed planks lying in the middle of the floor. He didn't see the hole they covered.

The moment his boot met wood instead of dirt, Link knew. He threw out his arms, scrabbling to get a handhold somewhere, but it was futile. His wrist smacked against the tunnel's floor as the boards broke under his weight, and he yelped as pain shot up his arm. He was in free fall for a moment, and then he hit the surface of water and sank. The cold shocked him, numbing his muscles almost immediately; his lungs tried to inhale, earning him a mouthful of freezing water. His instincts took over, and he kicked for the surface, dropping his shield; it was far too heavy to swim with. Link supposed he should have been grateful that a pit of spikes hadn't been waiting for him at the foot of that cursed trap.

He reconsidered that thought when a Shellblade clamped itself around his calf, its powerful shells digging into his skin. Link thrashed, trying in vain to shake it off, before shoving his sword down and severing the muscle that held the Shellblade together. Pushing past the fire in his leg, he kicked once again for the surface, lungs begging for air.

A pair of very hairy, very ungentle arms hauled Link out of the pool and threw him on the ground, where he coughed up water, shivering uncontrollably. He recognized the scent from earlier; that of monsters and death, and the various inhuman sounds surrounding him confirmed it. He wasted no time drawing his sword with his uninjured hand and facing his opponent—his _opponents_.

Link was in a cavern the size of all of Castle Town, and it was filled to the brim with monsters. Stalfos, Moblins, Wolfos, Iron Knuckles, Dogondos, Redeads…every enemy he had faced while saving the world, plus species he had never even seen before. Skulltulas hung from the ceiling; skulls and Poes floated about. There were thousands of them, surrounding him on all sides, roaring, growling, drooling for his blood. Fear and adrenaline shot through him, his heart slamming against his ribcage frantically. His hand tightened around his sword, planning his first move.

Before any of the monsters could so much as blink, Link launched himself at a Dogondo, impaling it with his sword and whirling around to slice a Stalfos in half. The powerful claws of a Wolfos tore through his tunic and the chainmail underneath; then there was pain, and warm blood running down his skin. Link took down the Wolfos and kicked away a Stalchild. Hearing the clunk of heavy armor behind him, he threw himself to the side as an Iron Knuckle's axe nearly came down on his skull—backing right into another monster. The cold, skeletal, vice-like arms of a Redead encircled him, its teeth sinking into his shoulder. He screamed and slammed the pommel of his sword into the Redead's skull, then pushed its corpse away and turned to his next opponent.

His eyes widened. The gaps he had just made were already filled, each monster he had taken down replaced by five more. Panic swamped his thoughts; he shook with fear and cold; his wounds stung. Link had never faced this many enemies before. He'd never even fought _half _this many at once before. The Triforce of Courage offered no help—Farore was not with him today. He had no healing potions, no shield, no Master Sword, not even a fairy to guide him. He _had_ saved the world, but what could one person do against an army?

He could only come up with one answer.

For the first time in his life, Link ran.

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	3. thunderheads

**disclaimer: **The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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Link stumbled out of the cave's mouth and all but threw himself on Epona's back, digging his heels into her sides to urge her into a gallop. She bolted forward immediately, streaking through the trees with her ears back and eyes white around the edges; she could sense her master's panic as well as smell the monsters so close in pursuit. They were fast, but Epona was faster. Link had never been more grateful to have her on his side.

Where could he go? Not back to the Kokiri; that would only lead the monsters into the village and cause a massacre. He was in no shape to turn around and fight them all; his numerous wounds caused jolts of pain with every step Epona took. His only choice was to try to lose them. He turned Epona towards the edge of the forest, then pulled out his bow and turned around to look at his enemies.

Clearly, the entire army had not chased him out of the cave, but there were still several dozen coming after him. Link nocked an arrow and drew back the bowstring, the wrist he had hurt in his fall screaming in protest, and took out a Lizalfos—not that it did much good. Still, he continued shooting, missing more often than usual because of the tremor in his hands and the pain in his wrist. Once his quiver was empty, he turned back around.

Something struck Link's shoulder blade with what felt like the force of a Goron, tearing through chain mail and piercing his flesh, causing him to howl in pain. He collapsed forward against Epona's neck, grabbing her mane to keep himself from tumbling off her back. It was a sensation he was unfortunately familiar with. The monsters had bows of their own, apparently. Link didn't look back to see the arrow embedded in his skin—he didn't need to. He had to get out of here.

The borderline of the trees was visible now. The sun was setting behind him, giving the forest an eerie red-orange glow. Link threaded his fingers through Epona's mane, trying to sit up in the saddle, but the arrow was an agonizing weight on his back, pressing him down. His breath wheezed in his throat, and blood soaked his tunic. But the break in the trees was so close, so _close_—

Link heard the whistling of a second arrow too late; Epona screamed as it struck her flank, but by some miracle she hardly faltered. Red-hot rage filled him, boiling under his skin. He wanted to turn around and _destroy_ the monsters that had hurt his horse; to tear them to pieces until there was nothing left but the blood soaking the ground, but he shoved the impulse down. The ugly desire to kill had always terrified him more than anything. Epona kept going, and suddenly they were out in the open field, the sky a tapestry of sunset colors above them.

Link twisted around to look at his hunters. Strangely enough, the monsters had stopped at the edge of the forest, and now they faded back into the shadows with no attempt of pursuing him. That was odd behavior, but relief swamped Link all the same—relief for himself, but also for the safety of Hyrule. He shuddered to think of what would happen if the entire army came to Hyrule Field.

Epona broke to a canter, then a trot, then a walk. Link knew he should remove the arrow from his back and her flank, but strength eluded him. He slumped in the saddle, his head spinning, barely able to support his own weight.

"Beautiful girl," he mumbled to Epona, stroking her neck partly to comfort her and partly to keep himself conscious. "Just hold on. We'll make it through this." Not for the first time, Link thanked the Goddesses for his incredible horse and her tenacity. He would not make it out of this mess alive if not for Epona.

Then his shoulder blade, where the arrow had struck, began to tingle oddly—then it began to burn. His hands gripped Epona's mane tightly, fingernails digging into his palms to keep himself from crying out and attracting the attention of any wild predators. The burning began to spread, sharp and biting; down his back, through his arms, filling his veins until he felt like his blood was boiling inside his skin. _Poison_—that was his last coherent thought. The arrow had been poisoned. Agony swamped him, carrying his mind away with the tide.

The sun sank below the horizon, bringing the warmth with it. Still soaked from his fall into the pool, Link trembled with cold, struggling to stay awake. He had a horrible dread that if he fell asleep, he might never wake up again. He did not know how much time passed after that. He rode in a dreamlike stupor, weak from blood loss and dizzy with pain.

When they passed through the ranch gates, Link's strength failed him. He heard shouts, frantic and panicked, but they sounded very far away. His stiff fingers released Epona's mane, his muscles went slack, and he tumbled out of the saddle.

He was unconscious the moment he hit the ground.

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"—infection isn't going to wait, Malon. That arrow has to come out _now_."

His eyes wouldn't open. His pulse was pounding too loudly in his ears. His body was impossibly heavy, laying on his stomach on something wooden and cool. It was difficult to draw in air; his lungs felt seared. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt.

There was a quiet sigh. "Fine. Ingo, get a wagon ready. Father, hold him."

Shuffling footsteps; the opening and closing of a door. Where was he? Why couldn't he _move_? Hands took hold of his shoulders, pressing him down.

And then, blinding, brilliant pain.

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The clip-clop of hooves against stone. The creaking of wagon wheels. His head on someone's lap. Fingers brushing against his forehead.

He still could not open his eyes.

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"—will do whatever we can, Princess. But there is no telling whether or not he will make it through."

_Princess?_

"I know he will." The voice was musical and gentle, but backed by iron—and more familiar than the back of his own hand. He had known it for a hundred lifetimes. "He always does."

Link's eyes flew open. He tried to say her name, but his tongue wasn't working. His vision blurred as her golden hair spilled over his eyes, and she pressed her lips to his forehead.

Then the darkness rose up, and pulled him under.

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	4. winter just wasn't my season

**notes 1: **I don't really like how this turned out? I just...don't. It went through, like, three drafts before I gave up and decided to post it.

**notes 2: **I have no intention of writing Princess Zelda as a damsel in distress. None whatsoever.

**notes 3: **so...reviews? *heavily suggestive eyebrow wiggling*

**disclaimer: **yeah, not mine.

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Zelda dipped the cloth in the bucket of water once again, watching as the blood on her hands dissipated into the liquid in red wisps. The late afternoon sun sent rays of orange through the sickroom's window; they dappled the carpet and gave her enough light to work by. Her gaze shifted to the object lying on the nightstand—the arrow Malon had placed in her hands the previous night. She glared at the tip, coated with a vibrant green liquid that none of her apothecaries had been able to identify. It was this poison that had caused Link so much torment.

He stirred under the blankets, his sleep restless and breathing labored. Death was no longer a threat to him—it rarely ever was—but the poison wracking his body kept him unconscious. There was a broken wrist, a heavily bruised leg, claw marks running down his side, and a bite mark on his shoulder. Then there was the arrow wound. Zelda thanked the Goddesses for Malon; if the farm girl hadn't removed the arrow when she did, infection surely would have set in.

She brought the damp cloth to Link's arm, cleaning his bloodstained skin without jostling his injuries. Impa had woken her late in the night as they brought him in, saying that Malon and her father had rushed to the castle with Link in a wagon, his life dangling by a thread. He had been covered in blood—his own blood, but also the green and yellow blood of monsters. For hours, Link had struggled through delirium and pain, thrashing and screaming on the bed until he finally slipped into a deep sleep. Even now, after his wounds were stitched shut and bandaged, he tossed his head from side to side, mumbling incoherently.

What had happened to him? Malon had said he rode into the ranch barely conscious; even Epona had been injured. It was not at all the first time Zelda had seen him hurt, but never this badly before, and he had certainly never allowed his beloved horse to get injured. She had not left her spot on this stool at his bedside since the healers allowed her in to see him.

Her thoughts screeched to a halt when she heard the change in Link's breathing. He turned his head to the side, his brow furrowing and his breath hitching as he registered the pain. A groan slipped through his clenched teeth. Zelda dropped the cloth immediately and took his hand in hers, brushing back the hair in his eyes.

"Link?" she encouraged, hope tight and searing in her throat. "I'm here."

His eyes opened slowly. He blinked against the light, glancing around the room before his gaze fell on her face. "Princess," he breathed, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "You're…a beautiful sight to wake up to."

Tears came; Zelda blinked them back. "I would hit you if you weren't an infirm," she said crossly, but her voice was heavy. "I was _worried_." Link chuckled, then winced. She noticed.

"Are you hurting a lot?" she asked. Chills ran up her spine as his screams before they had subdued him echoed in her ears. She knew he would be in pain, but Link had always concealed both physical and emotional traumas; it was hard to tell how ill he truly felt. "The healers gave you something a few hours ago, but I can call them back if you need more."

His eyes fell shut. The longer he was awake, the more prominent it became—the same burning sensation that had tormented him before, though it was not as severe yet. He tried to breathe through it, but even speaking seemed like a challenge. There were few things Link hated more than appearing weak.

"Link?" she prompted softly.

He was silent. She sighed.

"I know you don't like showing pain to others," Zelda murmured, smoothing a gentle hand over his hair. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Link. Just tell me how you're feeling."

He grimaced and opened his eyes; there had never been any point in trying to lie to Zelda. "It…feels like my blood is on fire," he admitted finally, speaking in halting, strained sentences. "I—I think that poison is still in my system."

Zelda pressed her lips together in sympathy, but she didn't let the feeling reach her expression. She knew how much he despised pity. She stood and left the room temporarily to send for one of the healers, who she had sent to get some rest.

"Where's Epona?" Link asked worriedly when she sat back down.

"She's back at Lon Lon Ranch," Zelda reassured, reaching for a glass of water and helping him lift his head to drink it. "Malon sent us a messenger this afternoon. Epona is fine; the poison didn't seem to affect her. It will be a while before you can ride, but she will heal just as you will."

Link let out a relieved sigh. There was silence for a moment. "What happened?" she inquired hesitantly.

He bit his lip and looked away, then parted his lips to speak. "I...was in Kokiri Forest," he began slowly. "I went to—to a cave, and—" he stopped, his face twisted in anguish, his breaths coming quickly. The pain was getting worse, so much worse; like molten lava simmering in his veins. "S-sorry—"

"Don't tell me now," Zelda interrupted gently, her heart clenched tight in her chest—deep sorrow for him, unadulterated rage towards the ones who did this. She took Link's hand in both of hers to anchor him; his fingernails dug into her palms unconsciously. She didn't mind. It was only a fraction of what he had to be feeling. "We can wait for the potion to get here. And don't apologize, either. You have nothing to be sorry for."

She talked to him while they waited. She talked about irrelevant things, unimportant things, but it seemed to give him something to focus on other than how much he was hurting. It had been too long since the two of them had spent time together. Link rarely stayed in one place for long—she knew that traveling had become ingrained into his soul during his quest to save the world, and that had never gone away—but he had been gone for an especially long period this time. Zelda had never desired to tie him down; she knew that he sometimes looked at her and saw another Zelda from another time, but that didn't stop her from counting (it had been two months, a week and five days of waiting) the time they spent apart.

The healer finally arrived and gave Link a red potion; he drank it greedily. Almost immediately, the burning in his blood began to subdue, receding to a dull throb. It wasn't pleasant, but it was still an immense relief. Link told Zelda everything that had happened after the healer left, omitting no small detail. She listened through the whole thing without interrupting once. When he was finally done, she stared out the window absently, chewing on her lower lip and thinking hard.

"What do you think they want?" she wondered.

He shook his head. "It's not about what _they_ want. It's about what whoever is controlling them wants. They're just…pawns. That's all they've ever been."

Zelda knew how he felt about killing. She was always the first one who woke up in the dead of night during his stays at the palace to hear screams echoing through the castle halls. She would rush in to find Link fighting against the sheets with his fingernails digging gouges into his palms, yelling that the blood was drowning him, that he didn't want to kill them—it happened far, far too often. It had frightened her as a child of ten years old, and it still frightened her now, but despite her fear she would always wake him up and bandage his bleeding hands and stay with him until the horror in his eyes faded.

(And it did fade eventually, but it never disappeared. Not even now.)

"Are you all right?" Zelda found herself asking. She knew she should be finding her father and preparing Hyrule for a siege; but this was more important to her at the moment.

He knew she was not asking about wounds of the flesh. She knew that he knew, too. And he wanted to tell her that he was afraid—that fear sat coiled in his stomach like a snake constricting his inside, that it had always been there, that he could hardly remember what life was like without it. He wanted to tell her that he dreaded falling back to sleep, because sleep only brought nightmares. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry it had been so long since he had returned.

But Link didn't say any of those things.

All he said was, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Link exhaled, hearing the hurt in her voice. She didn't believe him for a second. "I missed you," he offered weakly. That, at least, was not a lie.

Before she could answer, the door opened to admit the healer, who had returned to change Link's bandages. "Zelda, you should go," Link said. "You won't want to see this."

She looked at the healer, who shrugged. "It…would be easier to treat him in solitude, Princess," he admitted.

Zelda nodded at him, then looked at Link. "Rest well," she said softly, and swept out of the room. She had much to do, and she wasn't sure how much time there was to do it. The door closed behind her, but not before she heard Link's sharp cry as the healer began cleaning his wounds.

And she swore that she would find whoever had caused this, wherever they were, and make them _pay_.

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	5. prison blues

**notes 1: **Link has PTSD, or something similar to it. I hinted at this a few times in earlier chapters but I think it's better to come out and say it. I've had this headcanon for a long time because I don't think _anyone_ could go through what he went through at such a young age and come out unscathed. Especially when Navi, who was basically the only constant in his life after leaving the forest, left without so much as a goodbye.

**notes 2: **I hope you guys aren't just here for Zelink, cause it's gonna be a while before they get together. They have a lot of stuff to work through before they kissy kissy.

**notes 3: **This chapter is kinda boring…I need some time to flesh out the actual plotline of this fic so I don't dive into it without a plan. Which I do far too often.

**disclaimer: **The Legend of Zelda and all its characters belongs to Nintendo.

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"Zelda, I know that boy is your friend, but I see no reason why we should take his word seriously."

Zelda met her father's gaze evenly, her eyes sharp and furious. "He has been fighting for the crown for years. Think of all the people he's helped!"

The king of Hyrule sighed and turned his attention back to the reports on his desk. He was an aging man with bushy white hair and a similarly bushy white beard. His crown was gold adorned with one ruby, sapphire and emerald each to represent the Spiritual Stones. He avoided his daughter's gaze; sometimes ignoring her succeeded in earning him some peace and quiet. Zelda was very spirited, especially when it came to that Kokiri boy. The king had never really understood it.

"What happened to Link isn't everything I wanted to tell you about," Zelda insisted, leaning forward. "I had a dream…a premonition—"

"Enough with your dreams!" the king snapped irritably. "Have any of them truly come to pass? You are sixteen, nearly a woman. It is time to stop playing childish games."

_I __**am**__ a woman_, Zelda wanted to say. _And they __**have **__come true._ But a life's worth of training as a princess made her hold her tongue. Her father was nearly impossible to argue with when he set his mind to something. Besides, he did not know the reality of all that Link had done for Hyrule—few did. She knew much of the story, as did Impa and Saria. But only Link himself and his long-lost fairy, Navi, knew the whole truth.

"Link did Hyrule a great service when he warned us of Ganondorf's plans for treachery," Zelda said instead, voice cold. "Doesn't that make his word count for something?"

"I still have no idea how the boy came by such knowledge at the age of ten," her father answered. He never referred to Link by his name, only as "the boy". "I would not have believed it if we hadn't uncovered proof in his letters to the Gerudo. But the boy was half-dead when he arrived here several nights ago. Surely what he saw was warped by fever and blood loss."

"He was half-dead because he faced _an army of monsters_ in Kokiri Forest," Zelda said through gritted teeth. "I know you've seen him fight, Father. Do I need to remind you how he saved the tribes' ambassadors when there was an assassination attempt? When they were supposed to be under _your_ protection? He could best all the guards in this palace at once without trouble. If those monsters were able to nearly kill _him_, what makes you think we should leave defenseless civilians unprotected?"

"I am not denying his skill in battle, but the soundness of his mind."

Zelda felt as if she had been physically slapped. Her composure faltered and nearly dropped, but she had long since learned not to show weakness before her father. Her expression remained mild and nearly blank, but behind it she was a raging tempest.

"Do not think I am unaware of his…_behavior_ when he stays at the palace. He causes quite a bit of commotion every night," the king continued coolly. He used the word 'behavior' mockingly, as if he spoke of a petulant child who refused to listen to his mother. Zelda's hands shook; she fisted them in her skirt to hide it. "I have heard your guardian Impa call him 'hero', though I cannot fathom why. The boy acts nothing like a hero should. He shrieks at mere dreams like a child. He jumps at the slightest sound. He rarely speaks; when he does he is blunt and solemn."

"What are you suggesting?" Zelda asked pass numb lips.

"I am suggesting that what the boy thinks he has seen is not necessarily real."

Zelda stood, chair scraping against the stone floor, and left her father's office without a reply.

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Zelda did not allow herself to breathe until she was out in her garden. It did not officially belong to her, but she had claimed it a long time ago. It was here that, six years ago, she had stared through the window as Ganondorf swore false allegiance to the king. And it was here that she had first met Link.

Of course, it was not the first time he had met her. It had taken years for Zelda to fully comprehend Link's journey through time, as well as the actions of her counterpart in the future, a princess (or was she a queen, now?) whose sadness still lingered in the hero's eyes.

Her father's voice rang in her ears. _I am not denying his skill in battle, but the soundness of his mind._

Zelda was angry with her father, that was for sure. He had spent too long writing her off as an ignorant little girl whose mind was in the clouds, despite the mark of the Triforce on her hand. And she had no doubt that Link had truly encountered a monster army; he was neither delusional nor a liar. But part of her…part of her could not help but agree with what her father had said.

Link had been troubled by nightmares since they had met. He was sensitive, jumpy, and distant. Zelda had thought that his instability would even out over time as the memories faded, but it struck her that he wasn't getting any better—he was just hiding the fact that he was getting worse. It had been six years since they met. How had she not noticed his decline?

But she could not focus her attention on both Link and the trouble surely brewing in the south. Just because the army hadn't followed Link out of Kokiri Forest didn't mean that they would stay there forever. If they invaded, Hyrule would have to be ready.

First, she located the royal architect, an old woman who had been one of Zelda's tutors when she was young. The woman hardly looked up when Zelda entered the room, too absorbed in an intricate sketch spread out on her cluttered desk.

"Ah, Princess. How can I help you today?"

"I need you to do whatever you can to fortify the walls and the drawbridge. I want Castle Town to be impenetrable. You can inform Impa of whatever you need for construction and I will assure that you get it."

The head architect raised her eyebrows. "I'm afraid you don't have that authority, Princess."

"You'll receive a royal warrant from me. I will grant you whatever you need, and my father will be none the wiser. If anything goes wrong, it will come down on my head, not yours. You and everyone involved will be safe. You will also be compensated generously."

The older woman still looked skeptical, but Zelda would not back down. If her father would not take action, then she would. She raised her chin and stood with steel in her spine. "I believe Hyrule is in danger. My father doesn't believe me. But you've known me since I was a child. Haven't I always acted with Hyrule's best interest in mind?"

The architect finally gave in. Zelda had similar discussions with the both the captain of the guard and the castle blacksmith. They both hesitated at first, fearing the consequences of the law, but then bent under the willpower in their princess's voice. The captain would crack down on his guards with more training and drills, enforcing constant vigilance and skill within the castle walls. Guards were deployed to the villagers scattered throughout Hyrule to keep the people safe. The blacksmith would re-outfit the army with improved armor, as well as mending broken equipment and producing more weapons. Catapults and ammunition would be replenished, and soldiers would be taught how to use them.

"What kinda war are you expectin', princess?" the blacksmith asked, half-joking as he hammered away at a breastplate.

"I'm not sure," Zelda answered. "But I plan to find out."

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The palace infirmary was nearly silent as she walked the halls, dress swishing around her legs. The healers were hardly needed during peacetime. Zelda passed by a room occupied by a coughing servant, another by a soldier with a broken leg, and several empty rooms before she reached the door at the end of the hall.

Link barely glanced up as she entered his room. To Zelda's surprise, her Sheikah guardian was perched on a stool next to Link's bed. Before the door had even shut behind her, Impa stood and stepped away from the stool. "Think about what I said," she said grimly to Link, then brushed past Zelda out into the hall.

"What was that about?" Zelda asked as she settled herself on Impa's stool.

"Nothing," Link said with a shake of his head. It had been three days since his fight, most of which he had slept through. The poison was finally flushed out of system, and the color had returned to his skin. He was a fast healer, but it would still be a while before he was back on his feet.

"How did it go with the king?" Link wondered.

She sighed, wondering how to break this to him. She knew he was going out of his mind with worry about the monster army. "It…didn't go well," she said quietly in her gentlest voice. "You know better than anyone that he's never had faith in my visions. And when I told him what happened to you…he didn't believe me."

"_What?_" Link exclaimed. He shot up in bed, then flinched and clutched at his wounded shoulder. "Why didn't he believe you?"

Zelda bit her lip. "That's not important. I've already—"

"_Why didn't he believe you_?" he repeated, and it was the intensity of his tone that made Zelda answer.

"He thinks that you dreamed it. Or imagined it. Or…" she trailed off when she saw the look on Link's face. He had gone pale, with wide eyes and lips parted in belief.

"Are you saying he thinks I'm crazy?" he whispered.

"I don't know what he thinks. But he doesn't know you. He just sees the surface. He knows about your nightmares, but he…he doesn't know what you went through. He doesn't understand."

"Of course he doesn't," Link said bitterly, turning his face away. "No one does."

"But I want to," Zelda said softly. She reached for his hand; he pulled away. She pressed her lips together.

"Can I…be alone?" he asked, his voice hitching and wavering. It had a ragged edge to it that she had heard many times before.

Zelda nodded, her skirts rustling as she stood. Her hands itched to reach for him, but she kept them clenched at her sides.

The door slid shut behind her, leaving him in darkness.

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	6. stars in the sky

**notes 1: **Thanks so much for all the reviews! You guys are all really cool : )

**notes 2: **I didn't really expect to write the POV of anyone other than Link and Zelda, but I thought it'd be fun to write Impa cause she's a badass.

**disclaimer:** Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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Night fell in the mining camp as the last sliver of sun sank below the horizon. The air was heavy with humidity, the chirping of insects, and the voices of the workers scattered amongst the tents. The camp was in the shadow of a rock formation that housed the mine, to the south of Lon Lon Ranch. About twenty men and women with hard muscles and grimy clothes gathered around the campfires after a hard day's work, cooking their supper and laughing.

To the untrained eye, it looked as though nothing was wrong. But a mole planted within the miners' ranks had confirmed a month-old suspicion: the silver mine was merely a front for banditry and illegal drug trade.

Impa curled her fingers around the hilt of her dagger and beckoned her soldiers forward. She commanded a small, elite force of skilled warriors trained in the shadow arts of the Sheikah. Though she was the last true Sheikah, she had taught her warriors to match her in skill even if not in blood. They carried out stealth missions as ordered by the princess, though of course the king knew nothing of the matter.

Impa gave a series of silent hand motions that meant: _Attack on my signal._ They all knew their orders already—they were to attack and capture the bandits, killing only if necessary, and put a stop to the operation. Then they would take the criminals back to the castle to await justice under the crown. She raised an open hand, then began counting down finger by finger. _Five. Four. Three. Two—_

Before she reached _one_, something stopped her. A strange tentacle-like tendril of shadow, almost invisible at night, was weaving its way through the tents and towards the miners, who were too absorbed in their drinking song to notice. Impa signaled her soldiers to hold as she watched it intently. A strange breeze swept over them, carrying a thick, bitter scent on its breath. Still Impa waited as the tendril split into two, and the halves split to quarters, and the quarters split even more…

Suddenly shouts rang out through the camp as the shadows snapped around each bandit quick as a snake, tying their arms to their sides and their feet to each other like rope on a prisoner. The tendrils wrapped and wrapped until the bandits were mummified in shadows. Impa watched as their forms began to stretch or shrink or widen. All the while the bandits screamed and screamed, until their voices were no longer human.

Finally the shadows withdrew from the bandits, but they were not bandits anymore. They prowled the camp as Wolfos, Moblins, Stalfos, Poes—all of them transformed, all of them monsters. And instead of turning on each other as monsters should, they turned as one and began to head east.

_East, _Impa thought, and it all clicked together in her mind. _Kokiri Forest._

"Do we attack, ma'am?" asked her lieutenant, and she did not miss the fear in the faces of even her bravest soldiers.

"No," Impa replied grimly, glancing up at the castle silhouetted against the stars. "I must report to Princess Zelda."

They had made it three steps out of the camp when something cold and ethereal ghosted across Impa's shoulder. There was no hesitation in her movements when she slashed out with her dagger, slicing right through the shadow. It seemed to almost work as the tendril dissipated into the air, but after a moment it reformed and split to launch itself at Impa's soldiers. They all tried to fight, but their enemies were almost invisible and, it seemed, invincible. Out of the corner of her eyes, Impa saw the shadows drag down several of her soldiers, people who she had spent years teaching and befriending.

"Retreat!" she yelled. "Lieutenant, get them out of here! I'll catch up behind you!"

"But Commander—" the young man began to protest.

_"Go!" _Impa shouted with all the authority of the princess's famed warrior guardian. They obeyed. Impa pulled in a long breath, shut her eyes, and wrapped her fingers around the Shadow Medallion hanging on a chain around her neck, rubbing her thumb over the carvings in the center. She drew in the power of the night surrounding her: there was darkness in everything, and darkness gave her strength. Impa was the last remnant of the ancient Sheikah and she was Sage of the Shadow Temple—darkness harbored no threat to her. They would pay for the lives they had stolen.

Crimson eyes flew open, and Impa tore her enemies apart.

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Link breathed in deep and listened to the chirping of birds and the crunching of leaves under his boots. Two weeks after getting injured, the healers had finally let him out of the castle to go on a brief walk. The fresh air was bliss against his skin. Kokiri or not, Link was a child of the forest, and he was only at ease under the sky.

It would be a while before he could fight again, though he wore his sword at his hip anyway. He still wore bandages under his clothes. The arrow wound would take longer to heal, and he avoided using his injured left hand. But Link was tired of that sickroom and impatient to get out—the nightmares were strongest in the castle.

It only took him ten minutes to walk from Castle Town to Lon Lon Ranch. The stone gates greeted him on entry, as well as the warm scent of hay and livestock. Link nodded to Talon, who lazed on a bench outside the barn, and made his way out to the field. A tall girl perched on the paddock fence, long red hair swaying in the breeze. She hummed a familiar song as she watched the herd of horses graze.

"Malon…?" Link said experimentally. She was a dreamer with her head in the clouds, and sometimes she forgot to come back to earth.

Her head whipped around and she swung her legs over the fence, landing in the grass. "Fairy Boy!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace. "You're all right! I was so worried!"

"Yeah, I…ow. Malon, my shoulder's not healed yet."

Malon released him quick as a burn with a sheepish apology. Though she had forgotten the dark days of Ganondorf's reign just like everyone else, Link had still become good friends with her in this time. For some reason, she still called him Fairy Boy even though Navi was long gone.

"Are you recovering okay?" she asked, leaning back against the fence. "Besides the shoulder, I mean. What happened? When you got here there was so much blood…"

Link pressed his lips together and looked out at the herd of horses. The monster army was a conflict bigger than him, bigger than Zelda, bigger than Malon. He didn't want to get her involved. "I'm sorry I worried you. I can't tell you what happened…but I can thank you. You saved my life."

Malon colored slightly. "I didn't do much, really. You probably want to see Epona, huh?"

When Link nodded, she pushed off the fence and led him to the barn. "She's recovering surprisingly quickly, but she needs rest. I expect you do, too." Malon halted before she opened the door. "I wish you wouldn't do this," she said quietly. "Seeing both of you hurt…it's really scary. Why don't you stop fighting?"

It was a long time before Link found the words. When he did, they fell like wilting petals on a dying flower. "I'm sorry," was all he said, and then he pushed inside the barn. Fighting was in his veins. Fighting was the only thing that made him feel alive.

Epona stood in the back stall, neck lowered to chew on the hay piled in the corner. She raised her head as Link approached, ears pricking forward, and nickered as if greeting her boy. "Hey," he murmured as he reached a hand up to pet her, unlatching the stall gate with the other hand. Epona stepped forward and nudged her nose against his chest, blowing hot air down his shirt.

"Hey, beautiful girl," Link repeated, and buried his face in her mane.

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"This is very bad," Zelda said.

"I believe that's an understatement, Princess," Impa snorted.

"How many soldiers did you lose?"

"Five," Impa replied solemnly. "All monsters now."

Zelda pushed her chair back from her desk and stood, looking out the window of her private study. Her plans to make Hyrule safer were working, but it was not enough, especially not with the knowledge Impa had just brought her.

"My own people, turned into monsters and forced into an army." She turned back to look at the Sheikah. "My father _has _to take action on this."

Impa raised her eyebrows. "Your father is a stubborn fool," she said bluntly. "He may not be swayed, no matter what you say."

"I'm still going to try," Zelda answered. "I'm calling a royal council meeting in two days' time. And you and Link are going to be there."


	7. with fire and blood

**notes 1: **I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.

**notes 2: **I didn't proofread this because I want to go to bed. Hopefully there aren't too many spelling errors.

**disclaimer: **Zelda isn't mine, blah blah blah

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"Her Highness Princess Zelda Nohansen, heir to the throne of Hyrule, accompanied by Link of Kokiri Forest and Lady Impa of the Sheikah Tribe."

The great doors to the council chambers swung open, hinges creaking. Link followed two paces behind Zelda, with Impa on his left side. The princess looked regal and beautiful in a gown of robin egg's blue silk, a snowy white cape gathered around her shoulders. Her tiara rested on her head, gold adorned with a single ruby in the center of her forehead.

Link's gaze darted around the council chamber. It was a large round room with stained glass windows high on the walls. A fountain adorned with a stone statue of the royal family crest trickled in the corner. There were representatives from almost every major settlement in Hyrule gathered at a table shaped like a crescent moon, with the king in the center. Link nodded to Darunia, chief of the Goron, who grinned in response. Princess Ruto, who represented the Zora in her lazy father's stead, gave him a flirtatious wink. Nabooru, standing for the Gerudo, waved at him. Impa was the ambassador from Kakariko. The rest of the council were strangers to Link, four Hylians who were the authority figures in their cities. The only race absent was the Kokiri, since they could not leave the forest and remained isolated from politics.

The king glowered as he watched his daughter proceed to the open area in the middle of the room, where all the council could see her. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he had a disapproving set to his mouth. He had not been happy with the council meeting, but it was Zelda's right as princess to call a meeting.

"My friends and allies," Zelda began, her voice ringing around the chamber. "I have called you here today to discuss a new threat that has risen before Hyrule. Both of my companions have witnessed events that we previously thought impossible. We have reason to believe that these events bode evil circumstances have come to our doorstep."

The council members shifted, glancing at one another and murmuring apprehensively. "Link," Zelda continued, "please tell the council what you saw."

Link swallowed nervously and faced the council. He spoke very little on a daily basis, and facing down a crowd of politicians intimidated him. Instead of looking at the king, he met his brother Darunia's ever friendly eyes and found his courage. "Over a fortnight ago I was investigating claims of monster activity in the northwestern Kokiri Forest," he said. His voice began quietly, then strengthened with the same resolve Zelda often showed. Perhaps it was a will shared by bearers of the Triforce. "I discovered a cave deep within the woods. Inside, I found monsters, thousands of them, gathered in one cavern. They were forging weapons and armor as if preparing for war. I have much experience in fighting monsters, and I know that they don't possess the intelligence needed to gather an army. Someone or something is controlling them, and it bears Hyrule no good intentions."

Link let out a breath and stepped back, ignoring the sweat beading on the back of his neck. "Thank you, Link," Zelda said, looking back at him. Her crystal blue eyes shone with some emotion Link couldn't quite place. There was gratitude, but also…awe? Pride? Before he could decipher it, she turned her head back to the council. "Impa, please recount your side of the story," Zelda said.

As Impa stepped forward brusquely and described what had happened to her and her soldiers, Link looked at the council. The king looked as grim and unreadable as ever. Link already knew that the king didn't believe his story, but Impa had served the royal family for years—surely her word meant something to him. The unfamiliar Hylian ambassadors looked doubtful and unconvinced; that was no surprise. The council members who knew and trusted Link—Darunia, Ruto, and Nabooru—looked concerned.

Impa's story was no less disturbing the second time he heard it. The army was composed of people forced to change forms and fight as monsters. The creatures he fought when he came across the army had been human once, and he had killed them. He clenched his fingers into fists and imagined (for the hundredth time) their blood coating his hands, soaking through his gloves, caking his skin. He had killed those he was sworn to protect.

A tense silence followed after Impa finished. The council whispered amongst themselves, casting sideways glances at Link and Impa. "Now that you have heard of these threats, I would hear what the council has to say," Zelda said.

Before anyone could speak, the ground suddenly lurched under their feet. Link stumbled, his hand going to the hilt of his sword instinctively. The walls of the palace rumbled and shook, causing the council members to cry out. "Everyone remain calm," the king called. "It is but a small earthquake; it will pass."

But it was not just an earthquake. The windows shattered, colorful bits of stained glass raining down on the room. Out of the corner of his eye Link saw Impa pulling out a dagger for each hand; he did the same for his sword. Shapes crashed through the windows with weapons in their hands and landed before the council with a grace and precision that no monster should have.

Zelda was unarmed but for the small knife she always kept strapped to her thigh. Without hesitation Link pulled the bow and quiver off his back and threw them to her. She caught them with a grateful nod. Even though she had not learned the ways of the Sheikah in this life, she could hit a target better than he could, though she had not been tested in combat.

Once again, the earth bucked underneath them. Link looked to the council and saw that the three Sages stood before the defenseless Hylian ambassadors. Nabooru had her dual swords drawn; all Darunia needed was his fists. Link was not surprised to see the water burst from the fountain in the corner to crash into an enemy; Ruto, Sage of Water, smiled with a vicious sort of excitement.

Hearing a cry, Link turned to see the king topple out of his chair, trying to get away from the armored mass approaching him. Link darted forward and vaulted over the table, landing between the Iron Knuckle and the king. Link met the monster's huge double-bladed axe with his sword, steel clashing against steel with a noise that sounded disturbingly like a scream. He gritted his teeth as his unhealed shoulder ached in protest, but he kept pressing his blade against the Iron Knuckle's. Was he fighting one of his own people?

Behind him, the king watched the boy. He watched the strength and grace in his movements as the monster broke off, pulling its axe away and swinging it around for a second blow. The Kokiri danced away, letting the axe slam into the floor and jumping in to slash at the gaps in the creature's armor. He did not seem to notice the blood that was beginning to seep through the back of his tunic, or the tremors of the ground. His face was determined and focused, and the king could see that he took no pleasure in what he was doing. He looked very young.

But more than anything, the king watched the warm glow that the boy's hand emitted, even through his gloves: three triangles interlocked, the right one solid. Sixteen years disappeared in the blink of an eye, and the king was not in the council chambers but standing at his wife's bedside. Her eyes were closed and a smile lit her lips, but her chest did not rise. The bedsheets were soaked with blood. The queen's handmaidens sobbed into each other's shoulders. His grief was not pain or rage—it was only emptiness, stabbing at a void in his middle. The midwife handed him a bundle, and a shock of blond hair and blue eyes gazed up at him—the baby had taken after her mother. A tiny, chubby hand wrapped around his finger, and he saw the mark of the Triforce of Wisdom upon his daughter's soft skin.

Sixteen years. What had changed? The king turned away from the boy, and his eyes fell on Zelda. She was nocking another arrow to her bowstring and taking aim at a Redead; the arrow struck its skull. She was so strong, just like her mother.

She had always been so strong.

The moment Link thrust his sword through the Iron Knuckle and watched it blow away as smoke, laughter boomed around him—raucous, screeching, impossibly loud. The earth trembled. Terror filled him. Link knew that laughter. He knew.

There was a shape floating above all the rest of them—a very small shape, and yet the monsters in the room dropped their weapons and fell to their knees. It was heart-shaped, with cruel sharp spikes jutting out of the edges, and a dark purple deep as twilight. But it was the eyes that frightened him the most: they glared red and yellow and green like acid, and they hated.

_No_, Link thought. _No, no, no, no._

Majora's Mask laughed and laughed, and the earth shook, and castle began to give out. The plaster cracked, and rubble began to rain down on them. Link turned, sword in hand, just in time to see part of the ceiling crash down on the king.

"_Father!_" Zelda screamed, and the sound cut into Link's heart like a knife. She was running towards him, her dress a torn and ruined mess. The bow was still clenched tight in her hand. Half the ceiling had given way to reveal a cloudless blue sky; dust choked the air. Zelda threw herself at the rubble, fingers scrabbling to pull away the stones in an attempt to free the king.

But Link saw the blood pooling under the wreckage and felt very cold. No one could lose that much blood and live. Above them, Majora's Mask was laughing.

Link went to Zelda and pulled her away gently, taking her hands in his, though she struggled against him. Her eyes were shining, wild, and furious. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and he was: there was horror and guilt clashing together in his mind. "He's gone."

She shook her head, and the tears spilled over. She reached a hand back and grasped an arrow, nocked it to her bowstring, and drew. Her aim was perfect—the arrow flew and struck Majora's Mask, but it merely laughed. Then shadows like tentacles twisted and spun around it until it was encapsulated, and then it was gone along with the rest of the monsters.

Zelda's legs gave out. Link caught her and lowered her to the ground carefully; she was trembling, and he didn't know how to stop it. All he could do was pull her against him and rock her as she began to sob.

And even though the mask was gone, its laughter still echoed in his head.

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	8. glass houses

**notes 1: **pLOT? what's a PLOT?!

**notes 2: **no, but seriously, I promise this fic has an actual storyline. actual things will happen. they're coming.

**disclaimer: **not mine.

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Zelda had never liked wearing black.

_It is such a drab color_, she reflected dully as she stared at her expression in the mirror. Her handmaidens fussed around her, straightening her clothes and hair or dabbing at her makeup. Her mourning dress was soft black velvet embroidered with silver thread over a silk undergown. Pearls adorned her neck and ears; black velvet gloves stretched to her elbows. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders in waves the color of wheat.

Zelda felt nearly naked without the familiar weight of the princess's tiara on her head. It was locked away in the vault now, where no one would touch it but the occasional dusting servant until Zelda had a daughter. Today, she would receive a new crown.

Her handmaidens stepped away, finally done, and admired their work with hushed awe. They were twin sisters in their mid-twenties, dark-haired and dark-eyed, who had been with Zelda since she was young. "It is a shame you must be crowned in so soon after the king's death," one said, patting her arm sympathetically.

"All the same, you look like a true queen now, Your Majesty," the other said with wonder.

"Oh, don't call me that," Zelda said, braving a smile. "I know it's my official title, just—please. You two changed my diapers and dried my tears. At least call me 'my lady' if you won't use my name."

Before either sister could respond, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Zelda called, and Impa stepped in quietly as the handmaidens gathered their things and left.

"You've been groomed for this for sixteen years," Impa said in her usual blunt manner. "Are you ready?"

Zelda let out a breath and finally turned from the mirror to face her guardian. "Is there a right answer to that?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself in hopes that it would warm her. There seemed to be a chill deep in her bones, one that had not left since her father's death three days ago. They had buried him yesterday morning, and Zelda had watched the dirt pile up on his coffin with a blank stare. She had only cried for him once; now it seemed all her tears were dried up. She wondered if that was because she was strong or because she was empty.

"I am as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," she said.

Impa smiled. Her smiles were always brief and rare, disappearing almost as soon as they arrived. "Then you are already wiser than most."

Zelda gave up on trying to warm herself and let her arms dangle by her sides. She crossed the room to look out the window—at the green meadow scattered with trees, at Castle Town bustling with repairs from the earthquake, and beyond it, the long stretch of Hyrule Field.

"He was a horrible father," she heard herself saying. "He spent my whole life letting other people raise me for him. Yet…he was happier, I think, before my mother died. And he was a good king. I loved him." She looked back at Impa, blue eyes hard and bright. "The…the thing that controlled those monsters and started the earthquake…I want it stopped, Impa. And I want to find a way to turn our people back to normal."

Impa stepped forward and took her princess's hand. "I will see it done," she said fiercely. She hesitated, then said, "Sixteen years I have raised you, protected you, watched you grow up. You will be a good queen, Zelda. And I will follow you, always."

Zelda gave her a wordless smile of gratitude, and squeezed her hand.

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"From this day until the end of her days she shall serve as the rightful queen of Hyrule, hand of the Golden Goddesses and protector of the nation. She will serve the people and the land, enforce the justice of the crown…"

Link hardly listened to the steward's long speech—his mind was far away, with Majora's Mask and the man who was supposed to be its guardian. Termina was supposed to be the end of it, the mask salesman had_ promised_—

He bit the inside of his cheek and shoved those thoughts away. Now was not the time. He turned his gaze to Zelda as she knelt before the steward. The nobles were spread beneath the dais, and beyond them the people of Castle Town. Royal coronations were usually held inside the palace hall, but the damage dealt by the earthquake caused the ceremony to be moved outside.

At last, the steward placed the crown on Zelda's head. It was a delicate, beautiful thing of golden vines, decorated with the likeness of each Spiritual Stone. Zelda rose, chin high and shoulders strong, and turned to look upon her people. One by one, they fell to their knees.

"I now name you Queen Zelda of Hyrule," the steward announced. "Long may you reign!"

The crowds rose up and cheered, joyously greeting their new queen.

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He found his way to her quarters after the coronation feast. It was not exactly proper for the unmarried queen to allow a man into her rooms after dark, but neither of them were much in the habit of following customs.

Zelda opened the door herself at his knock. Dressed in a plain cotton gown, bereft of a crown or jewelry or makeup, she looked very little like a queen and very much like a scared young girl. Her skin was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes, and Link wanted little more than to whisk her away on Epona and show her the beauty of the world.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," Zelda said softly, and opened the door wider to let him in. She sat in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, Link taking the seat opposite her.

"We haven't really gotten the chance to talk," he said, voice low. "The king…I should have saved him. I'm sorry."

Zelda shook her head, drawing her legs up to her chest and looking at the flickering flames. "It's not your fault." She fixed him with her gaze. "You knew what that _thing _at the council meeting was. I saw it in your face. Tell me everything you know, Link. We have to stop it."

Link drew in a deep breath and let it out. He had known this was coming. He had told no one of what had transpired in Termina; he simply didn't know where to start.

"After y—after the princess sent me back in time and we stopped Ganondorf, I…left. For a long time. Do you remember?"

She nodded, and the memory passed between them. He had been a strange combination of ten years old and sixteen, angry and confused. He had run away from her—the girl who he remembered that did not remember him. They had stood outside the gates of Hyrule Castle, where she had placed the Ocarina of Time in his hands and told him to come home safely.

And so the whole story came tumbling past his lips, sudden and unstoppable. His journey to the depths of the Lost Woods to find his lost guardian fairy. The Skull Kid wearing strange mask who had stolen Epona; his fairy companions, including the bad-tempered one who joined him. Meeting the Happy Mask Salesman and hearing the true nature of Majora's Mask. Finding a town on the doorstep of apocalypse that was still intent on living. Embarking on a journey and living the same three days over and over and over—three days that lasted an eternity full of death and hope. Freeing Skull Kid and returning Majora's Mask to its owner. And finally, stumbling back into his own world only to find that months had passed since he had fallen through that portal, and he still could not find Navi.

Zelda never looked away from him, though his eyes darted around the room the whole time—to the fire, the window, his lap, her face. His hands were trembling by the time he finished; Termina was not a part of his life that he liked to remember. He could not speak.

"It sounds like it was hell," Zelda said bleakly. Link nodded his agreement mutely. She stood and crossed to his chair, kneeling before him and lacing her fingers through his.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered at last. "Majora is back. I have no idea where the mask salesman is. I saved two worlds once, but that was a long time ago and I…I don't know if I can do it again, Zelda."

She said nothing in response; perhaps there were no words to fix what he had been through. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, threading gentle fingers through his hair.

Finally, her words came. "I know you can do it. Because you won't be alone. I'm coming with you."

This time, Link did not push her away.

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	9. stitches

**notes 1: **weehhhh sorry guys I've been pretty busy this past week.

**notes 2: **shoutout to Zarianwen, who has reviewed almost every chapter so far. You're the best, dude.

**notes 3:** I listened to the Game of Thrones soundtrack while writing this and I want to cry.

**disclaimer: **I don't own Zelda.

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With a loud groan and a great deal of creaking, the drawbridge to Castle Town lowered inch by inch. The driver snapped the reins against the ox's neck and the cart rolled along, wheels rattling on the cobblestones. The muggy night air hung heavily around them, filled with the chirping of insects. The guards believed the wagon to be full of horseshoes, sent from the castle blacksmith to Lon Lon Ranch.

It was no easy business, smuggling a queen out of her castle. Link waved to the guards as the cart rumbled over the drawbridge and onto the dirt road, keeping the ox well in hand. The cart _was_ carrying horseshoes, and it _was_ going to Lon Lon Ranch; there was just a bit of extra cargo as well.

It had been a little over a week since the king's death—all the time they had allowed themselves. A week for Link's injuries to finish healing, and a week for Zelda to get the castle back in order after the attack. As far as the rest of Hyrule knew, it had been a simple earthquake. Only the two of them and the royal council knew what had truly transpired.

Impa would be ruling in Zelda's stead, though only a few people knew that the queen was gone. They had all protested, but she was the queen and had the willpower to match the title. '_What better way for the queen to serve Hyrule than to save it from evil?' _she had asked, and ended the conversation there.

Without incident, the cart rolled through the ranch gates as the rosy beginnings of dawn began to touch the eastern horizon. They halted before the barn, and Link hopped down from the driver's seat, movements fluid and quick. His injuries were all but scars now, and it felt good to be back to normal, though his shoulder still pained him from time to time. He pulled the cloth covering off the wagon. Zelda uncurled herself from the bed of the cart, sitting up to stretch stiff muscles.

"I never want to do that again," she grumbled, taking Link's offered hand and stepping down from the wagon. She was dressed in a long purple tunic over cream-colored leggings and brown riding boots; simple and functional, to avoid recognition. Her hair was pulled up in a long ponytail, and she held an unstrung bow along with a quiver of arrows on her back. Link suspected she had knives hidden in her clothing as well—Impa had trained her well.

Malon met them in the barn with two horses in tow. She greeted Zelda with a hug and a kiss on each cheek—the queen had made many friends while sneaking out of the palace as a mischievous princess. The ranch girl and Impa were the only ones in on their plan to get Zelda out of the castle unnoticed. Malon handed Epona's reins to Link, and gave the white gelding to Zelda.

"You two be careful, whatever you're doing. Watch out for each other," Malon said, glancing between them. "Though…I doubt that will be a problem," she added with a sly grin, then bounced away to tend to the chickens.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Link asked, dumbfounded.

Zelda shrugged, though Link saw that her cheeks were pink. She hoisted her pack onto her shoulders and mounted her horse Malon had picked out for her. Link followed suit on Epona, grateful to feel the reassuring steadiness of his mare underneath him again.

"I feel a bit like I'm running away," Zelda admitted as they rode through the gates. Her gaze was fixed longingly on Hyrule Castle, reminding Link of a different Zelda from a different time, garbed as a Sheikah with red eyes instead of blue. "I've only been queen for a week, and now I'm leaving."

Link halted Epona. "We can still turn back. I can do this by myself." The truth was that he was terrified, but dragging Zelda into the world of killing was not something he had ever wanted to do. Saving the world, fighting, killing—that all came ridiculously easy to him. What came after was not easy. He did not want her gentle heart to be tainted in the way his had been.

"But you don't have to anymore," Zelda reminded him softly, putting a gloved hand on his arm. "And I don't want you to." Her face had a stubborn, determined set to it that meant she would not be deterred. "My people smell dark tidings on the wind; they are frightened. So am I. But I live for them, and I will die for them if need be."

With that, she nudged her horse forward, the warmth of her fingers slipping from his arm. Link watched her go, thinking that maybe Zelda had been braver than him all along.

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By the time they reached Kokiri Forest, the sun had risen above the trees, casting a warm golden glow upon them. The horses' hooves clip-clopped across the wooden planks as they ducked under the hollowed tree trunk to enter the village.

"Will the Kokiri be all right with this?" Zelda asked quietly, guiding her horse to draw even with Epona.

Link shrugged. "The Kokiri are a peaceful people. They may not like it, but they won't hurt you, especially since I'm—"

He was cut short by a loud, incredulous screech. When Zelda looked for its source, she found a small scruffy blond boy blocking their path. He looked about ten and was clothed in green from head to toe. She noted the anger in his eyes and the exasperated sigh that came from Link.

"_What_ are you _doing_?!" he yelled, jabbing a grubby finger at Link.

"Mido, this is Queen Zelda, sole monarch of Hyrule," Link explained patiently. "She and I have business in the Lost Woods. We're just passing through."

"I don't care who she is! We don't allow strangers in the village!"

Link raised his eyebrows. "When did that happen? Last time I checked, the Deku Tree taught us how to be hospitable and kind, not rude."

"Taught _us_?!" Mido repeated, his face flushing red. "Last time _I_ checked, you aren't one of us, _Fairyless._"

Zelda saw the change in Link's face, then. It was in the way the mask slid over his face and turned him to stone—a lack of expression in place of a turmoil of emotions. Most would take it for apathy, but she knew him too well to believe that.

She dismounted and knelt before the Kokiri boy, who eyed her suspiciously. She doubted he had ever seen a full-grown woman before her—the forest children were not part of her realm and remained isolated from the other races. The other Kokiri were watching her warily, peeking out from behind buildings or trees.

They stayed children for their entire lives—in years, some of them could be far older than her, but in their hearts they were innocent. Zelda had heard enough from Link to know that the Deku Tree was like a father to all the Kokiri, but none of them had mothers. Zelda never had a mother either, but she had Impa, and that was close enough.

"You've done well to protect your home, Mido," she said, placing both hands on his shoulders and favoring him with a smile. "Now let Link and I take it from here. We both want to protect our home too—including your forest. Can we pass?"

Mido looked positively stunned, a blush creeping up on his freckled cheeks. Eventually, he gave her a nod, shooting a glance at Link. A barefooted girl came up to take her gelding's reins; they had decided against taking the horses into the Lost Woods. She thanked both of them, then followed Link up the winding path as the villagers watched them curiously.

They passed into the Lost Woods in silence. Zelda tried to read Link's expression, but his face remained impassive. Had she been wrong to defend him? He could speak for himself; he was no child.

"Princess, wait," he said as they came to the first clearing, where the path split into three. She turned, fingers tightening around her bow, and looked at him. He didn't seem to realize that her old title had rolled off his tongue.

"Thank you for what you did back there," Link said to his boots. "But you didn't have to."

"_Why?"_ Her voice cracked like a whip in sudden anger. He flinched, and Zelda bit her lip, cooling her temper until she could speak calmly. "Why do you have to do everything alone? Why won't you let anyone help?"

He was silent for a moment before he met her eyes, shaking his head. "Because no one ever _offered_, not since I was sent back in time. No one except you."

Zelda swallowed hard, and found her lips curving upwards. "Then that's a good thing, right?"

He smiled back—quietly, tentatively, but a smile nonetheless. "Yeah. That's a good thing."

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	10. crossing worlds

**notes 1: **A word about Majora's Mask. That thing _creeps me the hell out_, man. That's one of the reasons I decided to write this story. We know so little about Majora and the mask, only that it came from some ancient tribe who used it for hexes. And it's hanging_ on Link's wall _in A Link Between Worldslike a common decoration. WHY. I've always wanted to know more, so this fic is going to explore more about the history and origins of Majora's Mask.

**notes 2: **EVERY TIME I type Ganondorf's name I always want to spell it "Ganondork". it never fails to amuse me.

**disclaimer: **Nintendo owns the Legend of Zelda.

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Zelda shivered and kept her bow tight in hand as she watched the fog drift among the trees. She did not like this place; it made her feel drowsy and slow-witted, which was dangerous. Time seemed to pass strangely—had it only been one hour since they passed the Forest Temple, or several? There was no way to tell with the foliage blocking the position of the sun.

Link did not seem affected the way she was. He had always had killer instincts; perhaps they kept him alert. Or he had grown accustomed to the chill of the Lost Woods during his childhood in the forest. Zelda did not know, but she was grateful for it.

She looked down at her left hand, dwarfed by Link's gauntlets. Had she reached out first to lace their fingers together, or had he? She could not remember. A flash of green cut through the mist, and Zelda whipped her head around to look for it, but found nothing. A cold sweat trickled down her neck. Had it really been green, or was it gold? Yellow? Blue?

"_Zelda!_" a voice snapped, drawing her back into her own mind. She blinked furiously.

Link's hands gripped her by the shoulders; his face was drawn and worried. "What's wrong?"

Zelda shook her head as if to clear it. "I thought I saw something over there. This place is messing with my mind."

Link let out a breath. "Well, not anymore," he said, pointing at the hollow tree in the meadow before them that opened into a gaping black hole. "We're here."

"That's the portal to Termina?" Zelda asked, though she already knew the answer. Link nodded in response. He let go of her and crossed to the portal with Zelda following reluctantly behind. They stood beside each other on the edge and peered into to the gloom, and Zelda felt something like dread curl up in her chest.

Their hands found each other without question, and together they jumped into the abyss.

The pit of her stomach dropped as they plummeted into the gloom, but she couldn't find the breath to scream. At first, only darkness rushed past her; the shadows were so thick that she couldn't even see Link's figure beside her. Then light bloomed in the corners of Zelda's vision, blinding and furious, and she lost hold of Link's hand. Only silence answered when she called his name, and then she was falling alone.

Images raced through her mind too quickly to comprehend; voices overlapped in her ears, some familiar and some unknown. For an instant she was mighty with power but crippled by grief, holding the limp body of a hero in her arms. Then she was in the sky, fingers curled in the blue feathers of the giant bird she rode. She watched from frozen stone eyes as her best friend set off to save her. She donned the traditional dark garb of a Sheikah and sheathed a kunai at her hip.

It was all cut short when Zelda plunged headfirst into a river with an ungraceful splash. She struggled to get her bearings, kicking up towards the sunlight that filtered through the water. Her head finally broke the surface, and she gasped for breath, coughing and snorting out water. Finally strong hands lifted her by the armpits, hauled her out of the water, and set her down gently. Zelda pushed her dripping hair out her eyes to see Link kneeling before her, just as soaked as she was.

"Last time, I landed on a giant flower," he said with a wry smile, reaching up to take off his sopping hat and wring it out.

Zelda sighed exasperatedly and looked around. They had landed in a river deep within the walls of a canyon, its red clay gleaming in the sunlight. Link had pulled her up onto a wooden dock. She could see the colorful walls of a few buildings among the cliffs far above them; the only plants in sight were a few leafless trees and patches of dried-up grass. "I take it this wasn't where you landed last time?"

Link shook his head. "I know where we are, though. Ikana Canyon. It's not far to Clock Town from here."

While Link pulled off his boots to dump the water out of them, Zelda set down her bow—which she had somehow miraculously held onto—to peel off her gloves. She combed her hair with her fingers and wrung her clothes out as best as she could.

"Did you…see anything in the portal?" she asked tentatively after a stretch of silence.

Link looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"

Zelda dropped her gaze to her hands, turning them over in her lap, imagining them tanner and scarred and wrapped in bandages. "I saw visions. Scenes from lives that weren't mine, and yet…they _were._ They were memories, weren't they?"

Link looked at her closely, then gazed out across the canyon, his face unreadable. "Yeah," he agreed finally. "Memories."

"Do you see them too?"

He sighed. "They started as dreams, when I was little. When I started my quest, they changed. Sometimes I'd lapse into a memory that belonged to someone else, a long time ago. All I know is that the first time I held a sword…there was nothing more _right _in the world." He cleared his throat, looking away. "You used to see them too, before you forgot."

Zelda stared at the mark of the Triforce of Wisdom on the back of her hand. Evil would appear to take Hyrule. She would follow her head and not her heart to play a waiting game, buying as much time as she could for the hero. And Link would take up the burden of the world, caring for everything and everyone except himself. How many times had it repeated? How long would it continue?

_Forever_, whispered a voice in her head, and Zelda knew it was true. She, Link, even Ganondorf had always just been slaves to the cycle. In that moment she hated Hyrule and she hated the Goddesses, and there was bitterness coating her mouth.

"Did you…" Link began. "Did you see anything from before the other princess sent me back in time?" There was a sort of painful longing in his eyes.

"I think I remembered being Sheik, briefly," she admitted. For once, she couldn't meet his gaze. "But don't get your hopes up, Link. Please. I don't think it means very much."

It was in silence that they gathered their things and stood to head out of the valley. Zelda followed Link up the dock and down the rocky path. The sun beat down mercilessly, helping to dry their clothes and hair. They dashed through the path, dodging strange exploding boulder creature that reminded Zelda of Gorons. The land began to change after they climbed down a steep cliff face; bits of grass and flowers sprung up along the road.

Finally, a great field opened up before them. Trees and broken stone columns littered the area; it was not nearly as vast as her own Hyrule Field. Though Zelda had never seen Clock Town before, she recognized it immediately by the clock tower rising above the roofs, grand and colorful. She glanced up at the sky, trying to imagine those three days of neverending fear, the moon falling closer and closer every minute. Link's face was grim and sober; he had few pleasant memories of this place.

"Will the people here recognize you?" she asked as they walked.

He shrugged. "Maybe. They remember a ten-year-old. I've gotten a little taller."

Zelda snorted in an unladylike fashion. "A little taller" was an understatement; Link towered over practically everyone she knew.

"I'd rather they didn't, though," he added quietly.

"Why?"

"Every time someone calls me a hero," Link said blankly, "all I can think of is everyone I didn't save."

There was nothing Zelda could say to that. They had reached Clock Town, bustling with life and color. Five children formed a circle with their hands and danced around a decorated pole, their giggles ringing through the buildings. A group of mothers gathered at a pool to wash their laundry and exchange gossip. People hurried around carrying groceries or packages or babies; chickens clucked in a nearby pen. There was the sound of someone strumming a lute, and a lightness in the air that spoke of the joy that came from peacetime. Zelda felt a yearning in her gut, wishing that she could provide her people with the same certainty.

"We should split up," Link suggested. "Ask around about the Happy Mask Salesman. We'll cover more ground separately than together. Meet me at the clock tower in an hour."

Zelda agreed and they went their separate ways. She asked nearly every person she came across—a pair of old men playing poker under a tree, the woman she bought a potato pasty from, a man selling spiced wine on the street. None of them had ever heard of any Happy Mask Salesman, although a few recalled the fairy kid who had saved them all using the very masks she spoke of.

Eventually, she wandered into the park that occupied the northern part of Clock Town, where a few children played on the slide and a man threw a stick for his dog. She questioned the children and the dog owner to no avail. Just as Zelda was turning to leave, a flash of red caught her eye. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun, to see a very strange sight: a small men dressed in green was floating from a giant red balloon.

She was not sure what inspired her then—perhaps there was still a spark of mischievous princess left inside the wise queen—but Zelda strung her bow, nocked an arrow and took aim at the balloon. A loud _pop_ echoed through the clearing, and with a great deal of squealing and flailing, the man in green landed in the dirt at her feet.

"Hello," she greeted as she bent to pick up the arrow from the ground and return it to her quiver.

The man groaned and rubbed his head. He had a pinched red face under a ridiculous pointed hood, and he smelled awful. "Why'd you do that?" he whined.

"I was wondering if you might answer some questions of mine. Who are you?"

The man hopped to his feet with an agility that surprised her. "I am the great Tingle! I am a fairy from the forest."

Zelda raised her eyebrows and looked him up and down. He was most definitely _not_ a fairy, but she wasn't going to be the one to tell him that. "Well, Tingle," she said sweetly, "You seem like a smart fellow, up in the air on your great balloon. You must know a lot of things. So tell me: do you know where the Happy Mask Salesman is?"

Tingle narrowed his eyes and squinted up at her, his face turning down into a frown. "Why, haven't you heard? The Happy Mask Salesman is dead."

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	11. white knuckles

**notes 1: **it may have occurred to some of you that Link has been acting very weak, very on-edge these past few chapters. Actually for this entire fic, I guess. You should know that this is on purpose. You have to hit bottom before you can rise to the top.

**notes 2: **this is a short chapter, I know. I'll hopefully be posting another one by monday.

**notes 3: **I CAN'T STOP HICCUPING SEND HELP

**disclaimer:** Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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"This can't be true," Link insisted.

Zelda shrugged, running a hand through her hair. "It's what Tingle told me. Then he ran off before I could catch him."

Link shoved off the stone base of the clock tower and began to pace. It wasn't as if he grieved for the Happy Mask Salesman—they weren't exactly friends. But that he was dead was almost unbelievable. He had seemed immortal, untouched by the troubles of both Hyrule and Termina. And more importantly, he was supposed to be the keeper of Majora's Mask.

"The mask must have killed him," he said, feeling a sick twist in his gut. It was all too much—the return of his most frightening nemesis, the fate of its owner, coming back to this damn town that had haunted him in his dreams since he was ten. He felt helpless to stop it all.

"Link," Zelda interrupted, taking hold of his arm to halt his pacing. "Think. If we can't ask the mask salesman, who else would have the answers we need?"

"I don't know," he said uncertainly. "I don't know anything about Majora's Mask other than what he told me, but even that might not be true. He lied about the evil leaving the mask forever." His thoughts drifted briefly to the Skull Kid and his fairy companions, but he was certain that none of them would have anything to do with the mask after what had happened. Unless…

"The giants!" Link said suddenly. "Maybe they would know."

"The giants?" Zelda repeated.

"The ones who held up the moon so I had enough time to fight Majora. They're old as Termina itself. They must know something. Come with me."

They made their way to the long ladder that led up to the top of the clock. Link remembered climbing this tower the first time, Tatl hovering beside him, the moon crashing down above them. Now, it was only the setting sun that greeted him as he hoisted himself up onto the roof and pulled Zelda up behind him.

He pulled the Ocarina of Time out of his belt pouch, rubbing his thumb over its smooth blue surface. It had been a long time since he'd used it. "You know, if you hadn't left this with me, I wouldn't have been able to save Termina," he said, looking up at Zelda. "I would have died along with the rest of them." He looked out at Clock Town spread out below them. Laughter and music and the scent of baking bread wafted up even to the top of the tower. It was times like this that he understood his role; he understood that it was worth tearing himself apart to protect these precious lives. Every second of it was worth it.

"Then I'm glad I entrusted it to you," Zelda said quietly, following his gaze.

Link nodded and put the Ocarina to his lips. It had been years, but he remembered the song nevertheless. The low, deep notes of the Oath to Order rang out across the town, and the wind carried the melody away. It rolled over all of Termina—one hundred steps north, one hundred steps south, one hundred steps east, one hundred steps west. And when the song ended, the giants came from each corner of the land, silhouetted against the sunset sky. The earth underneath them rumbled with their strength, and the people of the town grew silent as they watched their guardians approach. The four figures grew larger and closer until they loomed just outside the walls of Clock Town, massive and bearded with eyes dark with knowledge.

"Great ones," Link called, raising his voice and drawing himself up to his full height. "I have called you seeking your help, as I once did six years ago. The same evil that threatened Termina then now threatens Hyrule, my home."

He watched the giants, hoping they would understand. He had never heard them speak, only sing; he had no idea if they even knew his language. They shifted and looked at one another, though their faces remained impassive. And then, they began to speak.

"_Hero of Time_," they said in four great booming voices joined together as one. "_You first came as a child and freed us from our prisons so we might aid you as you saved our world. You have returned as a man. A debt is owed. Ask us what you will."_

"Majora's Mask has attacked Hyrule," Link said. "It turned our people into monsters, enslaving them in order to build an army. How do we track it down? How do we save our people? How do we stop it?"

There was a long stretch of silence. Zelda came to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing together. Link's fingers closed around the Ocarina of Time, and once again the giants spoke.

_"Return to that which sent you home. Join together the one halved by time. Ease the anger of earth and breath and justice. Remember the old way. Find the three who were once five. Remember. Remember."_

And without another word the giants turned and began to walk away—one hundred steps north, one hundred steps south, one hundred steps east, one hundred steps west. "Wait!" Link shouted, running to the edge of the tower. "What does that mean? Come back!" But either they didn't hear, or they chose not to reply. They could cover a mile with each footstep; he and Zelda had no hope of catching up to them. Even if they could, he doubted they would give a coherent answer. He kicked the parapet of the roof in frustration.

"It was a riddle," Zelda said calmly behind him. "I happen to be very good at riddles."

Link turned to look at her. She _was _the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. "So you know what it means?"

"Not all of it," she admitted, letting her arms dangle in from of her and clasping her hands together. "I'll need time to ponder the whole thing, but the first two lines? Easy. I don't know who those giants think they're fooling."

Link watched disappearing shapes of the giants on the horizon. The sun was sinking below the trees to the west, turning the sky rosy pink and pale orange. "_Return to that which sent you home," _he repeated. _"Join together the one halved by time."_ He wasn't particularly good at riddles, but he was afraid he knew what those words meant.

"You already know, don't you?" Zelda said softly as she joined him on the tower's edge. There was fear in her voice. "We have to go forward in time. We have to find the _other _Zelda."

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	12. just close your eyes

**notes 1: **I am going back to hell to school tomorrow, so updates might be less regular since I'll be busier. But I'll do my best.

**disclaimer: **yeah, not mine.

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That night, Link dreamed of a future he had left behind.

_He stumbled out of the Temple of Time, limbs too long, shoulders too broad, not himself but someone else, someone older. The Master Sword hummed in his hand as if welcoming him. The horde of Redeads screamed awake, shuffling towards him on stiff decaying feet. Navi hung beside him, uncharacteristically silent. The market had been bright and busy when he had seen it last; now it was shrouded in darkness. Hyrule Castle—Ganondorf's Castle—loomed before him, the final trial for which he was not yet ready. The zombies surged forward, slapping cold hands on his skin, sinking razor-teeth into his chainmail, and all around him was the scent of death—_

_ Link had thought Kokiri Forest was safe from evil, but monsters stalked among the trees all the same. The forest children hid among the leaves, calling him "stranger" and "outsider". He found his house covered in dust and infested with mice, the bed much smaller than he remembered. And all he could think was that this was not his time—_

_ With all his strength behind the blow, he thrust the Master Sword through Ganondorf's heart. The Gerudo King choked and gasped, and Link watched his greatest enemy's lifeblood run down the blade, sinking through his gloves, turning the green tunic crimson. Link made a sound that was half laughter and half sobbing, and then the princess grabbed his arm. The castle collapsed around them, and Zelda pulled him along through fire and monsters with the warm swirl of her magic in the air. But even when they finally reached the open air, Ganondorf rose again—_

Finally, finally, an open palm slapped his cheek, stinging enough to wake him up. His eyes flew open and his left hand stretched out, reaching for the Master Sword. His fingers wrapped around the hilt, but it did not hum under his palm. _"Link!" _a voice cried, and reality slid into place. His eyesight focused on a lit candle placed on the bedside table. His breath heaved in his chest as if he had just won a battle.

Something dripped onto his face and rolled down his cheek. He tasted salt on his lips: tears, but not his own. _I've made her cry again, _he thought, and hated himself for it.

"Talk to me," Zelda said softly. She pried his hands open, probing at the crescent-shaped wounds left on his palms by his fingernails. There was blood caked on his hands, warm and sticky, but he hardly felt the pain.

"Zelda," he managed hoarsely. His throat felt raw from screaming—he had probably woken up all of Stock Pot Inn. Zelda wiped at the silent tears rolling down her cheeks and reached for the pitcher of water on the nightstand. Her hair was in one long braid slipping over her shoulder, and she wore a white sleeveless nightgown. The door that led to her adjoining room was ajar; she must have come running when she heard him yelling.

"What was the nightmare about?" she asked as she poured water onto a strip of cloth and began cleaning the blood from his hands. This had been an old routine for them, back at Hyrule Castle.

"Waking up in the future," Link said bleakly, sitting up and kicking away the blankets. "Killing Ganondorf." Same old, same old. He'd been dreaming of those days for years.

"You saved Hyrule," Zelda reminded him gently. "It wasn't all for nothing."

"He's the one who haunts me the most," he admitted. "He wasn't even the first human I killed. There were bandits who attacked me on the road, criminals who I stopped from hurting innocents…but I don't remember them the way I remember him."

She let out a breath and cut a strip of bandage to wrap around one of his hands. "You're so brave, you know," she murmured. Link let out a strange, breathy laugh. He didn't feel very brave. "I don't think you realize how brave you are. After all that's happened, you keep going. I wish I had that kind of courage."

If only she remembered who she really was: a queen, a Sheikah, the leader of the sages. Her patience and intelligence had once held together a dying Hyrule. _Join together the one halved by time, _the giants had said. Link couldn't even begin to sort out how he felt about that.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said. "Going to the future again. The flow of time shouldn't be altered. The Goddesses don't like it."

"I'm sure the Goddesses will understand that we're trying to save Hyrule," Zelda replied as she cut another strip of bandage.

"Are you sure you want to remember all of it?"

Her hands froze, his cuts halfway bandaged. She looked up to meet his gaze and held it for a long moment. Then she dropped her eyes back to her work and tied the bandage.

"Zelda, listen to me," Link pleaded, taking her hands in his. "I slept through those seven years under Ganondorf's reign. Yes, I fought, and yes, I ended the war. And you can see what it did to me. But you…the other you _lived _every second of it. She had to go into hiding and watch her kingdom crumble. She spent all that time in the shadows, making sure there was still a Hyrule left to save when I woke up. It…wasn't a good time for any of us."

"What are you saying?" Zelda whispered.

"I'm saying that some things are better left forgotten."

She stared at him, eyes wide, pressing her lips together. Several moments ticked by before she responded. "I can't decide anything until we find out what's going on."

"I understand. Just, please…consider what I've said."

She stood up, brushing her dress off, and glanced out the window. "It's almost dawn. We should get ready to leave." She walked towards the door that led to her room, bare feet padding against the stone floor. A shadow in the corner of the room shifted.

There was a wet tearing sound, and Zelda let out a gasp.

Link didn't yell her name. He didn't think. He just moved. He leaped out of bed in time to catch her before she fell, lowering her to the floor. Her dress was already slick with blood; her hands were clutched over the knife buried deep between her ribs. Her breath rattled in her chest—it sounded like the blade had punctured a lung.

Link's head snapped up as he heard the footsteps. His spare hand reached for his sword. He found the hilt and drew it from the scabbard, searching for his enemy. "Stay with me," he told Zelda, desperation cracking his voice. Her eyes were open but fading. Carefully, he lifted her and placed her on the bed as gently as possible. His shield leaned against the wall, but he didn't think he could reach it. He stepped away from the bed, his heart hammering like a battle drum in his chest.

A shape finally loomed out of the darkness, a knife in each hand, long limbs dangling like a spider. He was a Hylian. The candlelight danced on his pointed elfin features; his hair was orange, cut close to his head. His skin was as pale as death, and his eyes were empty. Revulsion crept up Link's spine, and he felt very cold and very afraid.

The Happy Mask Salesman leaped at him with knives flashing through the air. Link sidestepped the lunge and swung his sword down, feeling it cut through cloth and skin and sinew. His opponent's arm thudded to the floor, but there was no blood and no customary cry of pain. Link blocked the next swing with his blade, then forced the knife away and thrust his sword through the Happy Mask Salesman's belly.

This time, there was hesitation. Link pulled his sword out and kicked the dead man away, but still he did not fall. By now, Link was backed up against the wall, fighting mere feet from where Zelda lay bleeding on the bed, curled up around the knife in her body. An idea struck him, and his hand found the candlestick on the nightstand.

The salesman flew at him, and Link threw himself forward, throwing the candlestick. The knife sliced his arm, but he ignored the pain. His enemy's clothes caught on fire, and soon Link was inhaling the scent of burning flesh. The Happy Mask Salesman dropped to the floor and did not move again.

Link's sword clattered to the ground, forgotten. "_Zelda,"_ he said frantically, rushing to the bed and dropping to his knees. There was so much blood. Her eyes were open, but her breaths were growing weaker by the minute. "Hold on," he pleaded, rolling her over onto her back. He tore a long strip from the bed sheet, then grasped the hilt of the knife and _pulled_. Zelda's scream made his heart twist, but he never hesitated. Link flung the knife away and wrapped the torn sheet around Zelda's torso.

He stood and lifted her, one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. Her limbs dangled in the air limply like she was already dead. Link shoved through the door and stumbled down the stairs, breaking into a sprint when he got out of the inn.

"Link?" Zelda murmured weakly. One of her blood-caked hands somehow found his face. Her eyes were half-open, but even in the darkness they were very blue.

"I'm taking you to the Great Fairy," he said, voice unsteady. He wasn't even sure if she could understand. "She'll help you, I know she will—just stay with me, Zelda, _please…_"

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him—up the stairs, past the looming shape of the clock tower, out into the grassy field. The rocky path was sharp against his bare feet, but Link paid it no mind. His vision was blurred with what could only be tears.

Finally, he made it through the entrance of the Great Fairy's cave. He stumbled down the steps into the circle of arched columns, stepping into the ankle-deep water. Carefully, he laid Zelda down in the fountain and watched her blood pool in the water, floating away in red wisps.

The water stirred, and laughter exploded in the chamber as the Great Fairy burst up from the fountain, red hair streaming behind her. Link stood to look up at her.

"So the kind young hero has returned," she crooned, floating above him. "And this time he is not alone."

"Please, heal her," Link said, panic in his voice. "She's going to die…she _can't _die. Please."

The Great Fairy held up a hand to interrupt him. "The savior of Termina need not beg. As you once restored my broken body, I will restore hers." She lifted her arms, and an orb of light formed between her fingers. It drifted down to Zelda and sunk into her skin, weaving around her in ribbons, encapsulating her. Link watched the flesh of her wound knit together and felt profound relief sink into his bones. The fairies had saved his life countless times during both his adventures, and now they had saved Zelda's.

"Thank you," he said, and truly meant it. He and Zelda both owed her a debt that could never be repaid. The Great Fairy gave him a nod and a wink, and disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

Link lifted Zelda out of the water and placed her on top of the steps. Her eyes were closed, but her chest rose and fell steadily, not the ragged breaths of a punctured lung. _Alive. _He squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears fall. With nothing else to do but wait, he sat down next to Zelda and took her hand in his.

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Zelda drew in a long, deep breath, and opened her eyes. Her dreams had begun harshly, full of danger and fear, but ended gently with the calm lulling sounds of water lapping up against stone. She began to stir slowly—wiggling her toes, stretching her legs, opening and closing her fingers. She felt stiff and heavy, but there was no longer any pain. Though from the blood staining her dress, she could tell there had been a great deal.

Her gaze shifted, and she found Link staring at her wide-eyed as if he could not quite believe she was real. For a long time, neither of them could find the words to say.

For once, Link was the first one to speak. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Zelda breathed, smiling.

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	13. pour on a little salt

**notes 1: **sorry this took so long! I'll try to get another one out before the weekend ends.

**notes 2: **so, if we were pretending this story has 'arcs' like a manga…this chapter is simultaneously the end of the first arc and the beginning of the second. I expect there will be a total of 4-6 arcs, all of varying length. I'm excited to share the rest of the story with you guys!

**notes 3: **my headcanon is that the Lost Woods never change, no matter the season or what's going on outside. They're eternal. Keep that in mind while you read this chapter.

**disclaimer:** Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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They stood side by side, staring silently at the pile of ashes on the floor. They had caused quite a stir at the inn; Zelda had paid Anju triple for all the trouble, though they had left out the part about a dead man coming to attack them.

She pressed a hand to her abdomen, feeling the rough scar tissue through her tunic. Though the wound was healed, she could not quite forget the sight of cold steel buried in her flesh. From the way his hand never left his sword hilt, she could tell that Link hadn't forgotten, either. She had scrubbed the blood from her skin and burned the stained dress, but somehow it was not enough.

"You're sure he was dead?" Zelda asked finally, breaking the silence.

"What else could he be?" Link replied. "His skin was cold. He didn't bleed. He was already decaying." He shook his head as if he didn't believe his own words. "I stabbed him through the belly and he didn't die."

"So the mask killed him, and brought him back to life," Zelda said dully. "Or _something _brought him back to life." She tried to wrap her mind around it. There were so many questions and not nearly enough answers.

"We should go," she said. _Return to that which sent you home. _The doors of time had been closed six years ago, after Ganondorf's defeat. The only way to open them was with the power of all seven sages combined, and for that they had to go home. Though they had both hoped that Termina would have the answer they sought, Zelda was glad to be leaving. She felt out of place here in this strange world full of reflections of her own people, and she wasn't used to being gone for so long. She was sure Link felt the same way; she often caught him glancing up at the sky nervously, as if waiting for the moon to fall again.

"Wait," Link said just as she was turning to pack the rest of her things. Link bent over and drew something out of the ashes, holding it out to her.

It was a small golden spike, flat on one end and pointed on the other. It was wooden, the paint chipped and scratched in some places. Zelda felt as if the air shifted when she took it in her hands, becoming heavy and oppressive. It felt evil. "What _is_ this?" she said breathlessly.

"A piece of Majora's Mask," Link answered grimly. "The Happy Mask Salesman had it."

Zelda swallowed hard. Had this piece, a single tiny piece, had brought a man back from the dead? What could the mask do at its full power? The thought made her all the more eager to return to Hyrule. She handed it back to Link silently.

After packing all their belongings and giving Anju a final apology, they left Clock Town and made the trek to Ikana Canyon, where the portal had left them. Clouds blanketed the sky and blocked the sun, threatening rain.

"You should know something," Link said as they walked, "Even though we've only been here for two days, it could be that we were away much longer in Hyrule. Time passes differently here."

That made Zelda pause. What if some catastrophe had befallen Hyrule while they were gone, without its hero and its queen to protect it? "How much time passed there when you first came to Termina?"

Link bit his lower lip, thinking. "I don't really know," he admitted. "Months? A year? When I finally went back to the forest, Saria was shocked to see me. 'It's been so long', she said. And…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"And?" Zelda prompted.

He sighed. "The first thing I noticed was that Epona had grown. And _I_ had grown. That was when the Kokiri figured out that I was no Kokiri. I was much taller than any of them had ever been, and I…didn't have a fairy anymore."

Zelda knew very little of her young neighbors in the south, only what Link had told her. They couldn't leave the forest, and travelers rarely had cause to come to them. She could only guess what having a fairy would mean. "They didn't…send you away, did they?" she asked gently, not wanting to believe it.

"For a time, they did," Link said, his voice empty of feeling. "Saria wouldn't let them keep me away forever."

Zelda stared at the road ahead of them blankly, though there was rage seething in her bones. "I thought the Kokiri were peaceful," she said numbly. "Gentle."

"Oh, they are. But they're also children, and children can be cruel." He kicked a pebble lying on the road and watched it roll away. "I was only eleven. I'm not really sure that it matters, anyway. The village didn't feel like anymore."

Zelda turned her face away. She wanted to hit something. She wanted to cry. Link had been forced to suffer tragedy after tragedy, both in his own life and in the life the goddesses had made for him, and yet he still fought to give the world peace. He spoke of it all matter-of-factly, as if it made no difference whether or not he had a home to return to. Sometimes his selflessness bordered on self-destruction.

Before she could think of a reply, they had reached the river they had fallen in two days ago. With no sunshine, it was dark in the shadow of Ikana Canyon. The wind rushed through the rocks, creating an eerie howling sound. "What now?" she asked.

Link pulled the Ocarina of Time out of his pack. "Make sure you're holding onto me," he answered. "I want to be sure we get through together." Zelda put a hand on his shoulder, and he drew in a breath, closed his eyes, and put the Ocarina to his lips.

She recognized the song from the first note. Impa had been humming it in her deep, musical voice for as long as Zelda could remember. It was what Link had played on the first day they met, to make her believe that he was from the future. If she thought far, far back, before everything had turned sour, she could even remember her father singing her to sleep. That brought the sting of tears to her eyes.

Zelda's lullaby rose up around them, filling the silent howling canyon with music. And with the music came a light, rose-colored and warm, swirling around them. It felt familiar. It felt right. It felt like something she had forgotten long ago and learned once again. Before long, the light had encompassed them until the canyon disappeared from Zelda's vision.

When the light cleared, they stood in the Lost Woods once again. The air was still and silent, the fog drifted among the trees—it was as if they had never left.

Zelda breathed in, and smiled. They were home.

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But when they stepped out of the Lost Woods and into Kokiri Village, Zelda did not think this was home after all.

The leaves hung loosely on the trees, brown and shriveled and nearly falling—it was the dead of autumn, where the leaves had just begun to turn when they had left. But Zelda hardly noticed any of it—what she noticed was the silence. There was no laughter echoing among the trees, no children harvesting the cattails growing by the river's edge, no Mido boasting of his great accomplishments. There was nothing.

Link took off running down the path that led to the village, boots slapping hard on the dirt. Zelda called after him, but he never slowed. She let him go, following at a walk—she was not sure she trusted her legs just then. Zelda passed rows of dark treehouses, sets of tools laid out as if someone was about to use them, long-since dry laundry hanging on a line between two houses. Kokiri Village was a ghost town, silent and empty.

She found Link standing before a wide house sporting a giant leaf on its roof. He was stock-still, broad shoulders pressed against the doorframe. She came to his side and placed a gentle hang on his shoulder. He looked at her, eyes lost.

"She's gone," he said hopelessly. "They're all gone."

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	14. candlelight

**notes 1: **I know, I know, I promised another chapter by the end of last weekend and it…didn't happen. I'll try harder to get the next one out in a shorter amount of time.

**notes 2: **also I didn't proofread this because I need to go the hell to bed so…hopefully there aren't any super embarrassing errors in here.

**notes 3: **reviews make me :)

**disclaimer:** The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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A drop of water trickled down the hood of Zelda's cloak and splashed onto her nose, making her shiver. The rain drummed against the roofs of Castle Town, muffling the clip-clop of their horses' hooves on the cobblestones. It was evening, though the precise time was impossible to tell with the clouds blotting out the sun. The streets were deserted of all but a few stragglers, though warm light spilled from windows and doors. Still, thinking of the crackling fireplaces within only made Zelda feel colder.

They had already been to Goron City and Zora's Domain; both were ghost towns with no sign of the Sages of Fire and Water. She had pieced it all together in her mind like a jigsaw puzzle built of information gleaned from traveling merchants and residents of Kakariko. It had been roughly three months since her father's death and her coronation. Kokiri Village had been the first to go; she could tell that from the layers of dust in the forest huts. Goron City had been second, and Zora's Domain the most recent.

Castle Town remained untouched, as did Kakariko, Lon Lon Ranch, and all the neighboring settlements they had passed. But there was a hollow, guilty place in Zelda's chest all the same—she had left her kingdom in order to save it, but the danger had been at home all along. Her heart ached with worry for Impa, for her people, for the Sages, for Link.

She glanced at him as they left the town, heading towards the castle. His face was closed off and blank, but there was a tightness in the set of his jaw that showed how tense he was. He had been speaking even less than usual since they had returned from Termina. They were both practically dead on their feet after days of travelling; the last time they had stopped to sleep was at the Clock Town inn, which hadn't exactly been a restful night for either of them.

"Halt!" snapped a voice, bringing her back to the present. Three guards stood before the gate that led to the castle road, and one barred their way with his spear in hand, rain pelting on his steel helm. "State your business. The queen is not expecting any visitors today."

Zelda gave him a wry smile and pulled back her hood. "I don't believe that will be a problem, sir."

The guard gaped and dropped to his knees in the mud. "Your Majesty," he gasped. "I beg forgiveness…I did not—"

"I do not expect you to recognize your queen in commoner's garb," she said gently. "Open the gates, please, and return to your post."

The guard nodded, and soon enough they were on their way again. Guards posted at the gate were a good sign; perhaps Impa was safe after all. The dread lining the pit of Zelda's stomach said otherwise.

Relief washed over her as the drawbridge opened to reveal a castle bustling with activity. A stableboy came jogging up to take the reins of her gelding as she dismounted, though Link kept hold of Epona, preferring to look after her himself. Zelda could hear the clang of steel against steel coming from the practice yards, and there was the rumbling of a forge coming from the smithy. _Home_, she thought fondly, and it was true—no matter how far she travelled, or how dark the world became, her place would always be in Hyrule Castle.

She looked at Link, whose face was dark. He didn't have a place like this, where everything was familiar and right. It was clear enough that he didn't belong in Kokiri Forest, and this very castle reminded him too much of his one-man war of the past. He didn't have a home, and that made her so, so sad.

"You should get a hot meal and sleep after you take care of Epona," she told him quietly. "I don't know what to do next, but you shouldn't be fighting evil on an empty stomach."

Link shifted from foot to foot. "You look exhausted," he said, his eyes lingering on her face. "You should get some rest too." He turned and trudged through the mud towards the stables, Epona trailing behind him.

Zelda allowed herself a small smile, touched by his concern, and headed in the opposite direction. She wanted more than anything to pull the blankets over her head and sleep for an eternity, safe from the burden of the world. But first, she had to see Impa.

She crossed to the entrance to the great hall, glad to finally be out of the rain. The servants and soldiers she passed paid her no heed, not recognizing the queen dressed the way she was. It was strange to walk through the halls as a faceless girl, without a bow from every passerby.

Impa would most likely be in the king's study—the _queen's _study, she had to remind herself. Zelda made her way and knocked on the door with a gloved hand, receiving a muffled, "Who is it?" from inside. Relief filled Zelda at the sound of the Sheikah's voice. With three of seven sages missing, she had not been sure that Impa was safe.

"It's me," she said. The door opened, and she found herself being tugged inside and pulled into a tight embrace. Zelda let her eyes fall shut and breathed in; Impa always smelled of new leather. It was comforting.

She was the first one to pull away and meet her guardian's crimson eyes. Zelda was shocked at the change she saw there. Impa's face was thinner, more haggard, and there were shadows under her eyes that had not been there the last time they had seen each other.

"Zelda," she whispered. "Are you all right? Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry I worried you," Zelda said, feeling a pang of guilt. "Much has happened since I saw you last." She pulled off her sodden cloak and hung it on the rack by the door.

"Then tell me everything," Impa said firmly, pulling out a chair for her.

Zelda sighed and sank down in the seat, wondering where to begin.

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Link's footsteps were quiet as he trotted down the stone steps, the corridor lit only by his torch. This was one part of the castle he had never visited, even while scampering around with Zelda when they were younger. The air was dank and chilly; the only sound was the rain pattering on the ground above.

Zelda was with Impa, no doubt, trading stories of the past three months. He had bathed and eaten dinner in the kitchens after taking care of Epona, but he had no desire to go to sleep. The nightmares rarely came when he was on the road, under the open sky, but here—in the castle he had once fought his way through to kill his sworn enemy—they plagued him almost every night.

The jailer stopped him when he reached the bottom of the steps. "I want to see the traitor," Link told him, not quite believing his own words.

The guard's eyes widened in disbelief. "_Why?_"

"I need to speak with him."

The jailer shrugged and stood, pulling a ring of keys from his belt. "Suppose traitors get visitors like anyone else. Though you're the first one in six years." He squinted at Link. "Aren't you the kid that put him in here?"

Link nodded in response. The guard offered him a grunt and an appraising look, then unlocked the door to the jail. "He's kept separate from the other prisoners. Last cell on the right," the jailer grumbled, and shut the door behind him.

Link walked down the long aisle of cells, his torch illuminating the metal bars. They were all empty but for the last one. A figure slumped against the wall, manacled by his ankles and wrists, though there was not much point. The Triforce of Power had never been with him in this lifetime, and his magic had left him the day the Sages had trapped his future self in the Sacred Realm. Without all that power, he was just a man.

The King of Evil raised his head and met Link in the eyes. He had turned thinner and gaunt, and was dressed in prison rags instead of the robes of a Gerudo. His crimson hair had grown long and tangled, and a ragged beard mottled his cheeks. But his eyes were still the same, glowering orange and defiance.

"Hero of Time," Ganondorf drawled. "I should be honored. It's been six long years since you ruined my plans and threw me in here. I've been rotting in this dungeon cell for nearly as long as I once ruled Hyrule."

The pit of Link's stomach dropped, like free-falling through the air. "You _remember_?"

Ganondorf chuckled, low in his throat. "Shocked, boy? I have always remembered. Life after life, cycle after cycle…I remember it all." He lifted his head and stood, chains jangling together. "But you did not come here for a history lesson. Why have you graced me with your presence today?"

Link dropped his hand to his sword and wrapped his fingers around its hilt, trying to wrack his brain for an answer. His feet had seemed to carry him here all on their own. He had told himself that it was because there was a chance Ganondorf was behind all this, but that couldn't be true. Majora's Mask would not serve anyone.

"I thought it was finally time to face you," Link said finally.

Ganondorf snorted and stepped up to the bars, footsteps made small by the manacles around his ankles. "And what great courage it must have taken, to visit a prisoner in his cell. The princess didn't come? What a disappointment. I thought she would want to face me more than anyone, after spending so much time in hiding."

Something must have shown on Link's face, because the Gerudo King laughed. "I see now. She doesn't remember, does she? Splitting herself into two beings took too much from her. It's just you and me that know the truth of it all. What a tragic story."

"It's done," Link growled. "It doesn't matter."

"You're a terrible liar, boy. It eats away at you, doesn't it? I always knew it would. I watched your progress, you know—you were quite the efficient war machine. You killed thousands while I killed a few dozen, and yet you're the one they call hero."

"You tried to take over Hyrule."

"I _tried _to save my people," Ganondorf snarled. "But that doesn't make a difference to you, does it? We could vanish into the sands for all you would care."

"You started a _war_," Link snapped. "And I had to fight it by myself. I killed those thousands to _protect_ countless innocent lives. That's why they call me a hero."

"Oh, but it still haunts you, hero. I can see it in your eyes, just as I could see it then. You cried when you ran me through with the Master Sword—you were _sorry _for it." Link turned his back on his enemy, unable to look him in the face. "And what are you now, boy? A shell. The poor fallen hero who hated killing. And that is what makes you weak—at your core, you have always been weak. I may have lost Hyrule, but in your heart I won. You will never stop fighting that battle."

Link turned back around and stepped up to the bars of the cell, his heart hard as stone in his chest. He glared into Ganondorf's eyes, ice blue on blood crimson. "You're wrong," he said coldly. "That's what has always separated us. Power is only worth something if you use it to protect people. And you were not worthy of power. _You _have always been the weak one." He took a long, deep breath. It all felt so clear now. "That's why I came today. To show you that you didn't win. _You will never win_."

Ganondorf said nothing; he only exhaled, shook his head, and retreated to slump against the wall. Link turned to leave, but something stopped him. "The cycle," he said, staring out at the long aisle of cells. "When does it end?"

Ganondorf chuckled, sounding very tired. "It doesn't, boy. It doesn't."

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	15. eternal war

**notes 1: **WHO'S READY FOR HYRULE WARRIORS I AM READY FOR HYRULE WARRIORS

**notes 2:** I actually like this chapter a lot (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I hope you do too!

**notes 3: **I know Link isn't actually much taller than Zelda at all but couples with vast height differences give me life, okay? okay.

**disclaimer: **Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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Zelda found him in the practice yards the next day, helping her guards train as he did from time to time. A hushed crowd gathered around the sparring ring, intent on the two men within. Link and the captain of her guard circled around each other, each armed with a sword and a shield. She made her way through to watch, the guards parting to make room for their queen.

The captain was a huge man, broad-shouldered and strong-armed. He wore practice armor, while his opponent wore only a green tunic. Link looked very small before the captain, but Zelda knew better.

The captain moved first, throwing all his weight forward in a lunge. Link sidestepped the falling sword, cat-quick, and struck out. The captain caught the blow on his shield and swung his sword around, aiming for Link's side. Instead, Link shoved himself away into an effortless backflip, landing on his feet and kicking up dust. His sword snaked out, so fast it was a mere blur to Zelda, and caught against the captain's weapon, knocking it aside.

When the dust cleared, the point of Link's blade was held up at the captain's throat. The fight had ended nearly as quickly as it had begun. The crowd was silent, awestruck. Zelda was breathless; her eyes stung strangely. She had not seen him execute such a perfect fighting move in a long time.

At last, Link lowered his sword and slid it into its sheath. "You have to think before you move," he told the captain. "Watch your opponent's eyes, not just his sword. The eyes always betray the next move."

The captain nodded, humbled, and broke away to give orders to the guards. Zelda wove through the soldiers to get to Link, who looked up as she approached. "I forget how good you are, sometimes," she said quietly. "Will you walk with me?"

Link followed her without a word. They crossed the practice yard to the steps leading up to the ramparts, where Zelda gathered the skirts of her lilac dress and began to climb. A chilly wind ruffled her hair when they reached the top of the stairs, on the castle walls. Zelda leaned her forearms against the cool stone rail and looked over the castle grounds, watching out of the corner of her eye as Link joined her.

"You're leaving soon, aren't you?" she murmured.

He eyed her, his expression sinking, and gave her a nod.

"I'm not coming with you," she blurted out. "The people are afraid. I was gone too long already. Hyrule needs me."

Link nodded again as if that had been what he expected. "I'm sorry," Zelda said, turning to him. "I wanted us to see this through together. And know that when the time comes to kill Majora's Mask, I'll be there. I don't want you to fight alone anymore." Link was avoiding her gaze. "I'm sorry," she repeated, and reached for his arm. "Please say something, Link."

"Oh…don't apologize," he said gently. "You're fulfilling your duty, as always. I'll fulfill mine."

"It's not _fair_," she insisted, feeling like a child. "Over and over you've had to go off and save Hyrule, only to have it threatened again. You fought and nearly drove yourself _mad _fighting, and for what? It never ends. How do you deal with it?"

Realizing how much she had said, she covered her mouth with a hand. She was a queen; queens were supposed to remain strong, always. She just felt so hopeless, ever since those memories had come to her while falling through the portal to Termina. The two of them would never know true peace. Their hands would always be scarred.

Link was staring at her wide-eyed. "Deal with it?" he repeated. "I don't, Zelda. There's no excuse for the way I act sometimes. You just have to…" he trailed off, struggling for the right words. His hand came up, fingers brushing her cheek. Zelda swallowed hard. "You keep finding reasons to live, no matter what."

She let out a breath and leaned her head forward, pressing her face into his chest. Her forehead rested on his collarbone, and could feel the beat of his heart through his shirt—_ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump._ She closed her eyes and breathed in; he always smelled of the forest, of earth and trees, of life. Her arms drifted up to wrap around his middle.

Zelda could feel him tense and hesitate, but his arms came around her all the same. "Be careful out there," she breathed into his tunic. "Come back safely."

The chuckle rumbled through his ribcage. "I always do, don't I?" Link murmured. He let out a sigh and rested his chin on her head. "Thank you, Zelda."

"For what?" she asked, pressing her fingers into his back. She could feel the rough edges of his scars there, even through his tunic.

"For everything. That has gone unsaid for too long."

They stood there for a few moments longer, drinking in the steadiness of themselves and each other. It was strange to think that this new closeness they had found over the past few months was born of a world-threatening crisis. But then again, that was how Link had met the other Zelda, in another time. But that was the core of what kept her at a tentative distance. He was still holding on so hard to the past.

Even so, he was the first one to pull away. She looked up at him, her gaze lingering over the hard lines around his mouth, the tautness of his jaw. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and darkness within them as well. But there was kindness, too, even after all this time. "You'll do your duty, and I'll do mine," Zelda promised, mirroring his words from before. "And we'll see each other again."

Link gave her one long, final look, and nodded. Zelda watched him turn and trot down the stairs, then across the practice yard, to where Epona was grazing on the grass. The mare raised her head and nibbled at Link's hair in greeting. He smiled and rubbed her neck, then put a foot in the stirrup and swung up in the saddle. Finally, Zelda watched as he urged his horse into a trot and disappeared through the gates.

He didn't look back once.

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Link was halfway to Gerudo Valley when he heard the first crack.

It sounded almost like thunder, splintering through the air with a deafening ring. But where thunder boomed all around, this had definitely come from behind him. A distinct sense of heaviness, of _wrongness _invaded the air. He twisted around in the saddle, his heart beating in his throat. Even from here, Hyrule Castle stood tall and proud on the horizon. He could see storm clouds gathering above it, and even from the field he could hear the screams.

Link wheeled Epona around and dug his heels into her sides. She leapt into a dead gallop, the gait she saved only for emergencies. At that breakneck speed, they were back through the gates of Castle Town in a matter of minutes. Link leaned low over Epona's neck, fingers tangled in her mane as they dodged through the marketplace. The town itself looked untouched, but its residents were crowded outside in horrified silence, peering in the direction of the castle.

He kept going, the world a blur of grass and stone and sky around him. When he got within a quarter of a mile from the castle, Epona skidded to a halt, tossing her head. He touched his heels to her sides, but she snorted as if in refusal, the whites of her eyes showing. Her instincts were sound; she did not want to run headlong into danger, but that was what Link always did. He slid down from the saddle and continued on foot, boots pounding on the dirt road. And at last, he made it over the drawbridge into the castle.

What he saw there horrified him. The castle still stood tall and proud above him, but a giant black pit had opened up underneath it, growing by the minute. There were people everywhere, some running, some screaming, some frozen in horror. At first, Link was not sure what they were so afraid of.

Then the second crack broke through the sky, and something struck him with the force of a tsunami, making him tumble head over heels in the dirt. Some invisible force was dragging him towards the pit. The people around him were shouting, sobbing, trying to get a hold on something before they were pulled under. Link's fingers scrabbled at the earth, fingernails breaking in his effort to find purchase. In a last desperate effort, he drew his sword and stabbed it into the earth, hanging onto it with all his strength.

Face pressed to the ground, Link watched as a cook who made the best apple pie in Hyrule was dragged over the edge. She was followed by one of Zelda's handmaidens, and the guard captain Link had fought such a short time ago. The only thing he could do was catch a single wailing toddler and hold the child close to him as people disappeared all around him.

Finally, after what seemed like a century, the pulling sensation stopped. Link didn't hesitate for a second. With the toddler on his hip, he pulled his sword from the ground and shoved it into its sheath. He pulled up a woman who had secured herself on a tree root and put the toddler in her arms, telling her to run as far and fast as she could. Next, he picked up a dazed old man and hoisted him on his back.

"Come _on_, people, _move it!_" Link shouted, shoving two stumbling farmers into a jog. He herded them out of the gates like sheep. That was something he had learned after years of being a hero—kindness would get you nowhere while saving a big group, though it was the intention behind the actions. People had to be snapped at for them to take action.

He set the old man down after he crossed the drawbridge, then took off back into the castle. His thoughts flitted briefly to Zelda, but she could look after herself, and most likely had Impa with her. No one in the courtyard was a sacred Sage or a bearer of the Triforce. Link had always stood with the weak.

By now, people were flooding out of the castle gates. Link grabbed two fleeing guards and hauled them along with him. "You!" he yelled at the man whose arm he held in his right hand. "Go and find the other guards, you coward! Rally them up and save your people. And you!" he cried, turning the guard on his left as he released the one on his right. "Help me lift this cart so we can get them out!"

The guard complied, taking the opposite side of the cart and lifting it to reveal the mother, father, and daughter trapped underneath. They crawled out but collapsed, suffering broken bones and crushed limbs. "Take her!" Link shouted at the guard as he put the young girl on his back and pulled the man to his feet. The man's left leg was a bloody mess, so he had to lean heavily on Link. The soldier lifted up the woman, and they made for the exit.

Then, a third crack splintered through the air.

Link, staggering under the dead weight of the man and girl, was not prepared. The invisible wave knocked him over once again and yanked him towards the pit. The girl was shrieking, but she kept her hold on his shoulders, and Link managed to keep an arm around the man. He reached for his sword and drew it once again, burying it deep into the ground.

It was not like the first wave had been, cradling a single toddler close to his body. The girl's fingernails were digging gouges in his shoulders in her effort to hold on. The man was twice his weight and barely conscious after losing so much blood. Link's muscles shook with effort; his hand began to slip on his sword.

He looked up—they were just before the forge, within three feet of the short fence that divided it from the rest of the courtyard. He looked back, realizing how close they were to the pit. And that darkness—he knew it now. If he thought back and back, to a lifetime that belonged to a different Link, he could remember another Hyrule, shrouded by shadows. _That's where it leads_, he realized. _That's where the Sages got taken, and the Kokiri, the Zora, the Goron. The Dark World._

His grip on the injured man began to fail. Fingers slick with sweat, Link's hand slipped down the hilt of his sword, until he held on only by the blade. The edge bit into his palm. The man slipped further. "I can't hold onto you!" Link shouted to him desperately. The man didn't respond; maybe he already knew, or maybe the blood loss had killed him minutes ago.

Finally, Link's fingers let go of the man's shirt, and he watched him topple over into the pit as guilt washed over his mind. The girl on his back screamed for her father; Link had nearly forgotten about her. His sword cut deeper into his palm, and the pulling wouldn't stop.

Gathering what little strength he had left, Link took a breath and reached for the girl with his free arm. He owed her this much, after letting her father die. His hand tightened around the blade of his sword, but he did not cry out in pain. Instead he gathered his legs underneath him and _stood_, pulling the little girl up in his arms quick as a flash, and threw her over the fence. He saw her land on the ground, but the fence stopped her from being pulled into the pit.

Link was not so lucky.

He could only fight against the pulling for so long. A fourth crack splintered through his ears, and he fell. This time, he couldn't save himself with his sword. His hands grappled with the earth, struggling to find something, anything, to grab onto. He found nothing.

Link slipped off the edge, and fell into darkness.

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	16. eclipse

**notes 1: **haha yeah idk school has swamped me and Hyrule Warriors is perfection so this took forever

**notes 2: **please ignore my geographical blunders. I swear I unintentionally and inaccurately change the location of stuff in every chapter

**notes 3: **My headcanon is that the Dark World is not a corrupted version of the Sacred Realm, but rather a world that coexists with Hyrule and the Sacred Realm—like Termina and the Twilight Realm. Likewise, the Dark World changes over time just like Hyrule does, so it's gonna be different from ALttP. And, well, it is…darker. Literally.

**notes 4: **I know I'm kinda answering questions with more questions, but I promise all will be explained soon enough. Thank you all for being patient!

**disclaimer: **Zelda belongs to Nintendo.

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Nails digging into the dirt, Link jolted awake, gasping for air. He shot up, heart hammering, and peered at his surroundings. He could tell from the wind howling around him that he was very high from the ground. The sun hung low on the horizon, its light a dull red that did little to help Link's vision. It was like one of those rare moonless nights in Hyrule, where there was nothing to do but find somewhere to camp until morning.

He stretched out his limbs and rolled his shoulders, assessing his condition. It was an old ritual from long ago. He ached all over, but nothing felt broken. He could feel that both hands bore a deep slice across the palm from where he had gripped the blade of his sword before falling into that cursed pit. Slipping a hand into the pouch hanging on his belt, Link drew out a roll of bandages and wrapped them around his wounds. If his pack hadn't fallen off at some point in Hyrule Castle, he might have done better, but it was all he could do for now. Then he felt for his sword and found it gone.

He tried to swallow down the panic rising in his throat. In the old days of adventure, he had navigated through the dark parts of the temples by using Navi's glow and the Master Sword's reassuring weight in his hand. Still, fighting nearly blind had always scared him. This was worse. All he had left was his shield, his bow and quiver, a few bombs, a red potion, and the Ocarina of Time. Even his water skin was gone. And he lacked a sword—Link was no one without a sword in his hand.

But if he was right—if what happened in the castle had happened all around Hyrule—then the Sages were here, as well as thousands of people. Saria, his first friend, his best friend. Darunia and Ruto, who had put their faith in him so many times. The Kokiri, the Goron, the Zora. If Link didn't save them, who would?

_No one_, a voice whispered inside his head. _You are alone in this war, as always._

Then he thought of Zelda's face as they had stood on the rooftop and tried to say goodbye—cheeks flushed from the chilly air, hair ruffled by the wind, blue eyes shining. _"You'll do my duty, and I'll do mine," _she had said, her face sad but determined._ "And we'll see each other again." _He wasn't alone. She had been trying to tell him that all this time.

Link stood—chin up, shoulders straight—and took up the burden of the world once more. He turned in a full circle, trying to get a sense of where he was in the seemingly impenetrable darkness. He took a few tentative steps forward, and one of his feet found open air. For a split second pure fear shot through him, but then he realized the drop was only half a foot. They were stairs. He lowered himself down and edged out again with one foot, onto the second step.

He wasn't sure how many steps there were, or how long it took him to climb down. It felt like centuries passed before he found the bottom, staggering at the sudden change in ground. By then, his eyes had begun to sting from the strain of squinting ahead of him.

Looking back behind him, Link could make out the vague shape of the building he had climbed down from, outlined against the dull red sun. It was a pyramid, spearing up and up towards the sky. It struck him as very familiar. A name came to him unbidden, from the recesses of his mind—_the Pyramid of Power_. He had been here in a life long before this one—a different Link fighting the same enemy. If he remembered correctly, the Dark World was a reflection. The pyramid was another version of Hyrule Castle, which meant that everything else was located in the same place. He knew Hyrule Field like the back of his hand. It shouldn't be so hard to navigate in the dark.

Link started forward in the direction he believed to be southeast, praying that he was right. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he was wrong—he could be lost forever in this land of shadows. It seemed like every few minutes he blindly tripped over something or stumbled into a rut in the mud. Once, he heard a splintering _crack _as his foot broke through something hard. Reaching down, Link pried his foot free and groped around to see what he had stepped on. When his hand finally found it, he recoiled quickly. Even without his sight, he knew the shape of a human skull.

It was when he stood back up that he heard the first howl. Then a second followed it, and a third and a fourth. Link straightened, cold sweat trickling down his spine. He would know the call of a Wolfos anywhere. From the sound of their howls, he could tell they were very close. He considered his options. He had his bow, but what good would that do if he couldn't even see his target? Bombs wouldn't work either; it was more likely he would ending up blowing himself up.

Link had never been a Kokiri, but he had learned to have the instincts of one. Trying to see his enemies was futile; he let his eyes fall shut and opened up his other senses. He could smell the Wolfos' dank breath on the air, hear their paws thrumming on the earth. He pulled his shield off his back and held it up in front of him.

The first monster leaped at him from the right. Link lashed out with his shield, striking it with the heavy metal side. The blow made a sickening _crunch_ as it landed, and afterward he heard the Wolfos hit the ground. Hearing the telltale snarl of another member of the pack from behind him, he whirled around, using the momentum to land a swift roundhouse kick to what felt like the beast's skull.

Their pack mates killed, the last two Wolfos rushed him together. While Link turned to smash his shield down on the first one's skull, the other leaped for him and tackled him to the ground, its claws digging deep into his chainmail. His shield tumbled from his grasp as he hit the dirt, the monster's weight pressing down on him hard. Link battered at it with his fists frantically as it slashed at him with teeth and claws. Finally, he somehow wormed his arm to the quiver on his back, wrapping his fingers around an arrow and stabbing it into the Wolfos' flesh. By the time he pulled the arrow out, it was just a dead body. Link shoved it away, disgusted.

He slid the arrow back into his quiver, hands shaking, lungs heaving, and swallowed back the bile in his throat. He hadn't suffered any serious wounds, only a few scratches and bites. The blood on his hands didn't belong to him. He searched around on his hands and knees until he found his shield, then slung it on his back and stood.

Despair struck Link as he realized he had lost track of which direction he had been going in. He could still see the dim outline of the pyramid, impossibly far on the horizon, but he couldn't seem to remember where he had been heading. He tried inhaling to see if he could smell the trees and earth of the forest, but all that reached him was the scent of blood rising from the corpses behind him.

Had he been in Hyrule, he would have simply found a place found a safe place to spend the night and continued on in the morning. But a look at the blood-red sun told him that it had not moved since his arrival. It was called the Dark World for a reason. He swallowed again, wishing he still had his water skin, and glared at the darkness around him resentfully. His internal compass told him to head to the left. It had been wrong plenty of times, but it was all he had.

Link trudged onward, for minutes or hours or days, with only the silence and the darkness as companions. He tried his best to pay attention to where he was going, but it seemed very possible that he was walking in circles. There were no insects chirping or owls hooting; there was no wind and no warmth and no _light_. It was enough to make a person go insane. But instead, Link filled his head with thoughts of the people who he had to save, and it was enough.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, his foot caught on something and he fell-face first onto the ground. He felt the rough wooden planks beneath his bandaged palms and nearly wept in relief. He still could not see, but he had clear enough memories of this bridge. Link had spent the first ten years of his life standing at the entrance and wondering what was beyond—and at the end of that decade, he had finally crossed it to find out.

He raised his head and was nearly blinded when he saw the torchlight at the entrance of Kokiri Forest. After so much time in complete darkness, even the dim light made Link's eyes sting like ten thousand killer wasps. He waited until his vision adjusted, then stood and crept to the edge of the forest's opening, flattening himself against the hollow tree trunk. Torches meant inhabitants, and Link could not be sure that they were friendly. He pulled his bow off his back and drew an arrow from the quiver, nocking it to the bowstring, and leaned around the corner.

A Lizalfos was marching by, oblivious to Link's position. He raised his bow and drew it back to his ear, then fired. The arrow struck the Lizalfos in the side of its head, and it was dead before it hit the ground. Link's eyes darted around to confirm that no one had seen him; then he edged around the opening of Kokiri Village's entrance.

His mind went blank when he saw the village. Monsters patrolled all around. Some of the trees had been cut down, and the clearing looked empty without the houses that were there in Hyrule. But Link barely saw any of that. His eyes were focused on the cages lined up in the center of the village. They were small, barely big enough to hold a dog, and stacked on top of one another. And in each one, there was a Kokiri.

He drew his bow and aimed at the back of a Moblin walking away from him. The arrow toppled it, and Link watched, cold rage settled in his gut. He nocked another arrow and loosed, this time at a Stalfos, then at a Redead, and finally a Wolfos. If there had been a hundred monsters in that clearing, he would have killed them all. It could never be enough.

When he was done, he ran to the cages and skidded to a halt at the first one. "Link?" whispered Fado, tears coming to her eyes. Her clothes were in tatters, and her usual cheerful smile was nowhere to be found.

"It's me," Link assured, trying to keep his voice steady. His name spread down the line of cages, repeated over, and he heard sobs and laughter and hope. He had never been one of them, but they were his people. Nothing could change that.

He tugged at the chain holding Fado's cage shut, but it was no use. He would need a key to open any of them. "I'll be back," he promised all of them. "I have to find a key. Then I'll get you all out of there and to someplace safe. It's going to be all right."

"Wait!" cried a familiar voice, and Link's heart wrenched in his chest. He walked down the line of cages and knelt down before to one near the end. Saria, smaller than he had ever seen her, reached her manacled hands out to touch him. His first friend, his best friend. He could see her rides through her shirt, and her voice was tiny when she spoke. "You have to go after the one who did this," she murmured.

Link looked at the other Kokiri, skinny and ragged and all so _young. Did I look like that, when I started saving the world?_ he wondered. None of them wore chains other than Saria—he knew what that meant. She was the Sage of Forest; of course she had fought to defend her home.

"Who, Saria?" he asked, wrapping his big hands around her tiny ones. "Who did this?"

"_She _did," Saria breathed. "In the Great Deku Tree's clearing. You must stop her."

"I will," Link vowed, and took off running. Trees and grass shot by him, lit only by a few torches along the way. The rest of the forest was dark, and evil in a way that he had not sensed since the day Gohma killed the Great Deku Tree.

He slowed to a halt when he reached the clearing. In Hyrule, this was where the first Great Deku Tree loomed overhead, huge and long since dead. The new sprout grew near the old one's roots. In the Dark World, it was only one vast tree.

A woman stood with her back to Link, looking up at the tree. A long thick braid swung down her back—at first it looked black, but when the torchlight flickered off it Link could see that it was a shade of dark purple like the sky at twilight. Her skin was dusky brown, and she wore a long sleevless dress in a dark purple like her hair. On her head was a small dainty crown, adorned with sharp golden spikes jutting into the air.

"Welcome, Hero of Time," she said coolly without turning around, and Link could _feel_ the power in her voice.

"Who are you?" he snapped sharply, not in the mood to play games. "What do you want?"

She chuckled. "Before time began, before spirits and life existed, three golden goddesses descended upon the chaos that was Hyrule. Din, the goddess of power…Nayru, the goddess of wisdom…Farore, the goddess of courage…"

"I already know that story," he growled.

"Do you?" she asked. "The story left a few things out. Namely, a few _people_." She turned slowly, meeting his gaze coldly. She was beautiful in an ethereal sort of way—full lips, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, long nose. And her eyes…her eyes glared red and yellow and green like acid, and they hated.

"Who are you?" Link demanded, but by then he already knew.

The woman gave him a cruel, curling smile. "I am Majora, Goddess of Magic."

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End file.
